Petey and Wade Secret Dating Service
by isadancurtisproduction
Summary: (as in they are secretly dating, and that serves to protect the world, in the loosest definition possible) Of course, that all depends on whether or not his new boss likes him, and whether Peter is able to keep said boss from discovering that Peter is everyone's favorite neighborhood Spiderman. And when that boss is Tony Stark, things just got complicated.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Domesticity; in which everything is questioned

It was all very domestic, Peter thought, as he watched his lover (ex-enemy/spandex guy/crazy mercenary with a soft spot for the tex-mex side of Mexican food) rifle through their mail. It was a good day. Spiderman and Deadpool had caught some really stupid bank robbers the night before (tried to rob an ATM for God sake. Who does that? Not to mention that they were armed with water pistols and wore pantyhose for masks. The flesh colored ones. You could totally see their faces) and it had been easy and fun to team up with his boyfriend. The banter was a constant comfort, and all together it was just warm and light to hear Wade screaming about halibut as Peter webbed a guy's face to a wall. It was the best kind of date.

And then they made out on the roof of their apartment, their masks riding up to just above their noses, and it was greedy and sloppy and Peter could feel his blood running hot beneath his skin, and his last really coherent thought went into swinging them both down into their bedroom through an open window before they ended up having completely steamy, spandexy sex as their alter egos on the roof of the apartment of their 'normal' egos. Again. But it was all good because Peter then lost any semblance of coherency and had completely steamy, spandexy sex in the comfort of their own bedroom (if not their own bed) and Wade took off his mask all the way which had Peter groaning and coming way sooner than he'd meant to.

And then round two.

And three.

Four five and six, and then again lazily when they woke up the next morning.

And the best bit was that it was a Saturday, which meant that they could just laze around the house the rest of the day, having languid sex, playing video games, and eating all of the tacos that Wade could order. Peter didn't even have any nagging worries about missing any homework because in some weird twist of fate, all of his professors had decided to go homework-free since it was the weekend before finals week.

He would regret it later, he knew. He could be studying. Majoring in bio-mechanical engineering was all good, but memorizing everything was hard, okay? And finals were going to be a bitch. But he didn't care, because right now he was too busy admiring Wade as he flipped through the mail (and insulted each one individually, sometimes even going so far as to curse their family in the name of jelly or something equally ridiculous). Because it was domestic and 50s-sitcomish, and also Wade was completely naked except for a pair of thigh-high stockings with little bows on the back of each leg and a garland of laurel leaves he was wearing around his head like he was some Caesar turned prostitute.

"Why the fuck do we gotta pay electricity each month?" Wade complained, gesticulating wildly with a ripped-open envelope in one hand. "We save this damn city, we should get light for free. And why do we need light anyway? Moles can do the whole life thing blind, why can't we?"

Peter blinked and had to force himself to not smile indulgently at his boyfriend. "Well, for one, no one knows we save the city, especially since you usually wreck it more than you protect it," Wade gave a little pout that pulled his scars into some jumbled, knotted mess. Peter had the sudden urge to kiss each one of them smooth again and then keep going until they were pulled into something equally messy but more delicious and moan-inducing.

"And two, no one else gets exempt from paying bills just because they do their jobs. Even the ones who work for the government. Besides, you have a shit ton of money from all those contracts from before you stopped killing innocents for cash. I like to call it your reformation."

" _For love_!" Wade drew the words out in a soft southern-belle sort of falsetto and swooned against the kitchen counter. Then he threw the shredded envelope at Peter's head. "Why do they call them bills anyway? Did they used to be called Williams and people just thought the name was too long?" He flipped to the next envelope "William!" which he also threw at Peter. "And why do we have to pay for them every month? What made months so important? Why couldn't it have been every day or every week? Every year? Every hour? I don't mean that I'm going to make you go to that paying place every hour on the hour, sweetie Petey, I just want to know – William!" He threw this one at Peter too, "why months? Oh hello—what's this?"

Wade held up plain white envelope and then flipped it over so Peter could see the giant "STARK INDUSTRIES" printed on it in bold black letters.

Peter sat up straighter in his chair, a frown marring his face. "Is it for you?"

Wade shook his head and Peter's eyebrows shot up, but before he could confirm that it was then for himself, Wade, for some reason, felt the need to elaborate and started talking again (which was no surprise actually, because he never really shut up).

"No, because they don't know I live here. It isn't exactly mercenary chic, or even ex-mercenary chic to give out my home address to people who have dirt on me, and bigger guns then me (sadly), and who don't know I'm living with my very hot, very young, very innocent and smart and sexy and oh my god Peter do you wanna do that thing we saw in the back of Kama Sutra last week? I know we've been saving it for a special occasion but I really can't wait and you're super flexible so I think we could probably handle it? You're even, like, more flexible than the chick in the drawing, so I bet we could get your leg all the way up there. Better angle." He blinked a few times, and Peter took the time to smile at his boyfriend (and internally grimace at himself because he shouldn't find rambling tangents to be that adorable) before clearing his throat and effectively putting Wade back on the right track. "Right, so no, the Avengers don't have my home address. I wouldn't give it to them even if they asked, and especially not Stark, but they wouldn't send me letters anyway, Petey-Pie because this is the 21st century and no one uses snail mail. There's this new technology? Telephones, you just hold them to your ear—" Peter threw a pillow at Wade's face, which he dodged, "or email, not that anyone uses that anymore either…texting? You could even Facebook message me, if you find out which Da Reelz Deadpool FB account is mine." He shrugged. "Either way, it's for you." And he held the envelope out for Peter to take.

Peter made a grabby motion with his hand and Wade sighed in a put-upon manner (as if Peter was the one who was being weird and troublesome) and threw the letter at Peter's head.

"Thanks, Babe," Peter said as he caught the letter between two dexterous fingers before it had even thought about leaving a paper cut on his face. Wade stuck his tongue out at Peter in a perfect imitation of a five year old.

Peter ripped open the envelope, unfolded the letter, swatted at Wade who was trying to sit in Peter's lap and who was thus effectively blocking the letter from Peter's line of sight, and then read the troublesome thing (not Wade, the letter).

Then he read it again because it just didn't seem likely that he wasn't hallucinating (he wasn't on any kind of drugs, he'd had the perfect amount of sleep and he wasn't drunk), but it seemed less likely that what he was reading was real.

Peter cleared his throat and flapped the letter, embossed and shiny and everything that screamed I-make-more-money-in-a-day-than-you-do-in-a-year, at his boyfriend.

"Uh, hmm," Peter cleared his throat, "Wade, darling, could you read this please? I could swear it was a letter from the great Tony Stark himself congratulating me for being accepted into his internship program, but that can't be right." Peter blinked a few times.

Wade slid across the room in his stocking feet and grabbed the letter out of Peter's hand.

"Yeah, honey-boo-boo. You got in. Congrats!" Wade looked at Peter's rapidly paling face and amended his statement, "Not-congrats?"

Peter breathed out harshly through his nose, and Wade sat down next to him on the couch. Peter's eyes were drawn almost at once to first the dangly bits between Wade's legs that were casually hanging out on their sofa, and then to Wade's eyes, which looked muddled and confused.

"Well, I didn't really mean to apply." Wade raised his eyebrows and the laurels tottered over his ears in an endearing way, "I mean, I did, but I never thought I'd get in!" Wade did not look impressed, but he obviously knew enough about Peter by now to know to be silent and let the younger man explain himself fully before telling Peter he was a self-degrading dumbass. "Aunt May told me I should do it, and I did, just to make her happy! I really didn't think I'd get in. It's a great program, super prestigious. I thought, what's the harm in trying, it isn't going to happen. Because if it did happen, if I did get in," here his words were coming quicker, a note that real panic was setting in, "then I'd be working side by side with Bruce Banner and Tony Stark who are both amazing creatures of intellect and light, but also super super super smart Avengers who will definitely find out my secret identity and then I'll get them all killed or they'll throw me in jail for being an arachnid vigilante fighting guy and I just can't take that. Plus, I'll be in the same building as the rest of the Avengers, and if by some weird lucky-fate-chance-thing the two smartest scientists in the continental US don't figure out who I really am, there are lots of others who would be more than willing to de-mask me. And spies! SHIELD spies everywhere!"

"Breathe, baby boy," Wade intoned, his lips pulled wide in his own special version of the indulgent-boyfriend smile. "Here's what you are going to do. You are going to take the internship because if you don't you will literally regret if for the rest of your life, which means that you'll be thinking about it a lot, and I can't have that because you need to be thinking about _me_ a lot for the rest of your life. I'm not going to compete with regret; it has the kind of nag power that I can only dream about. And after you start working there, you're gonna see how ridiculous you are because no one expects little Petey-piper to be sex-in-spandex—rhyming!—spidey-dude because he's way more witty than you are, my man!"

"I am just as witty!" Peter snapped.

"No you aren't."

Peter gaped at his boyfriend. "I am literally the same person."

Wade gave him the same smile you would give a child who insisted he were a duck, the patronizing ' _yes, of course you are,_ ' chuckled and blew off Peter's statement. "And then you're gonna be super smarter, and you'll wow Hulk and Ironman with your big, gorgeous, pulsating brain, and they'll love you. And then in a decade or so, once everyone is all buddy-buddy, then you can tell them you're Spiderman and they'll say 'Oh Em Gee! That's so great because you're so great and now you can be on the team! Hashtag May I have your children?' and then I'll have to kill them all because you are _mine_ and no one but me can have your children."

"Wade, we are both men. Neither of us are bearing any children."

Wade scoffed. "You don't know that." Then he looked off into a middle distance for a second before saying, "K'duh! Science is super advanced! No—ugh, I hate arguing with you."

Peter let Wade finish whatever debate he was having with his boxes but couldn't stop himself from wringing his hands in nervous anticipation.

Could Wade be right? He _was_ always super careful about keeping his mouth shut about the super hero thing, and he made sure to appear as not-threatening and as human as possible at all times. He never even jumped on the ceiling when Wade flew at him with both katanas drawn anymore (though that might actually be _more_ of a problem considering that swords actually _were_ dangerous and he most definitely didn't want to die). And maybe the scientists would be too busy being part-time scientists, part-time super heroes to notice that Peter was also part-time scientist (college-student, good boyfriend, etc), part-time super hero.

"Plus!" Wade squealed, interrupting Peter's internal debate, "I'll be working with the Avengers pretty often now that SHIELD's psych people have given me the green light and I've proved that I probably won't be murdering anyone in the near future, so we can have _lunch dates_!" He squealed and jumped to his feet, doing a little happy-dance that somehow incorporated the waltz, the robot, and some Irish jig Peter had never seen before.

The younger man's resolve melted. It was a paid internship, which was good, he'd be meeting the foremost smartest scientists to ever be alive during Peter's lifetime, which was pretty awesome, and he'd get to eat lunch with Wade every day, which he would adore. No downside. He let a huff of laughter pass through his lips and he nodded. He would accept the internship.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Stark Industries; in which Peter fanboys

He walked into the lobby of Stark Industries his first day on the job, his heart beating about a million miles a minute because he was about to meet Tony Stark, richest/smartest super hero ever, and would be lying to him for the foreseeable future. And what if he wasn't what Stark wanted anyway? What if it was all a mistake and Stark would start talking about something so smart that even Peter couldn't figure out what he was saying and Stark would see that Peter wasn't right for the job and would fire him on the spot?

Then he forced himself to breathe because Stark would know that Peter was only a college student and wouldn't think he would know stuff above his pay-grade. Or, just grade, like, school-level. He smart, but not, graduate-student-about-to-get-a-doctorate-with-three-dissertations-under-my-belt smart.

Peter looked around him. People in suits were bustling by, quiet conversations muttered too low to be easily heard (unless super hearing was coming into play, in which case Peter would have no qualms telling you that that blond man in the green and black tie was planning on dumping his girlfriend that evening, and that the two women huddled close together were hiding their relationship from their bosses). He checked his watch and saw that he was still fourteen minutes early. The front desk was manned by a brunette with a scarlet blazer, and there was no one in front of her, but Peter still couldn't work up the courage to ask her what to do.

Plus he was still early which made Peter's mind spiral off on a tangent about punctuality. Aunt May had always said that punctuality was a sign of a good worker, and that if he wanted to impress his teachers (or his bosses, including but not limited to the hard-ass J. Jonah Jameson who he used to sell photos of Spiderman to back when he was photographer extraordinaire, which he still sometimes moonlighted as when he needed the extra cash extra quick). But, punctuality, did that cover also being early. Being on time was good, late was bad, on that scale, the earlier you arrived, the better off you were, which might be nice, but what if they were busy? They being whoever he was meeting. Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, x number of other interns who were probably all much smarter than Peter and who would show the two important ones just how unimportant _Peter_ was.

The clicking of heels on tile getting closer to him with every step drew Peter out of his head and he looked up in time to see a smiling red head stretching out her hand to meet his. Her hand was cool and smooth, but her grip was firm, and the red lacquer on her pointed nails did nothing to sooth his harried mind. What her handshake failed to do, her voice and smile made up for in spades, and when she talked, Peter couldn't help but smile in return.

"Mr. Parker?" she asked, and her smile was so warm and welcoming that Peter could feel his nerves settle. He smiled and nodded, letting her know that yes, she had found the right scared-out-of-his-wits intern. "Welcome. My name is Virginia Potts, and I am the CEO of Stark Industries."

Peter's smile vanished, and he could feel the blood draining from his face. "Excuse me?"

Ms. Potts gave a delighted little smile and led him over to the elevator, whose doors opened immediately. "I know. I'm not sure any other CEO would take time to show the new interns around, but I was Mr. Stark's PA for so long, and it is nice to meet the fresh new faces again. Paperwork is too much sometimes, and it isn't like Tony—Mr. Stark is going to remember to fetch you himself." Then, addressing the elevator as a whole, she said, "Floor twenty six please."

Peter's brow scrunched together because, was this woman crazy? Or did all CEOs talk to elevators? Peter was just about to lean over and press the button himself, when dulcet British voice reverberated through the small metal room. "Of course, Madam." The elevator did not even give a jolt as it started to ascend.

Peter gave a shaky laugh. "Umm," he gulped, "what?" Peter could have smacked himself for sounding so lost when he could easily have just pulled off the nonchalant "oh, yeah, this is a talking elevator. Didn't think they were out in the market already. I thought they weren't even going to start production until next January," but then Mrs. Potts turned to him with a slightly amused, slightly guilty look.

"Sorry about that, I forget sometimes that others haven't met Jarvis. Jarvis is Tony's AI, he manages all of the mechanics of SI. Jarvis, this is Peter Parker. Peter, this is Jarvis."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Parker," the voice intoned, and Peter could catch a tiny hint of what sounded like actual, natural kindness in the AI's voice.

Well then, easy, just another person to meet. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Jarvis. I would shake your hand, but, and I hope I'm not being rude, I don't know if you have one or not."

Mrs. Potts stifled a chuckle.

Jarvis's voice definitely held amusement when he spoke. "I do not. But do not worry, the possible forthcoming conversation where both of us politely try to avoid the subjects of prosthetics may be postponed, as you have just arrived at your destination."

As he stopped talking, so too did the elevator come to a stop and the doors slid open. Mrs. Potts led them out without hesitation, but Peter said a quick, "Goodbye Mr. Jarvis," before following the CEO down a short corridor, a sharp left turn through a glass door.

And then Peter's heart stopped because—Holy mother of Hell!—this was a lab that wet dreams were made of. Holographic floating computer screens in blue and black, transmission electron microscopes, a small robot who was sweeping with a hand broom at a completely clean square of floor, screwdrivers, a basket of wiring boards, an actual sledgehammer (actually, maybe this lab was just full of really weird stuff) and—oh shit! Tony Stark himself, tinkering with a motherboard with a screwdriver in one hand and another in his mouth.

Peter gaped at him, couldn't stop really, and Stark was just sitting there fiddling with tech so tech it was too tech for Peter to fully grasp, but it looked sort of like the base for an Artificial Intelligence upgr—

"Tony!" Ms. Potts snapped and Stark's head jumped up to glance first at Ms. Potts and then stare a little longer at Peter. Finally he stood, dropping both screwdrivers on the metal table, and swaggered over to where Peter was standing, a meeting-the-press smile on his face and his hand outstretched in greeting.

Peter met Stark's hand with his own and gripped it, not too loose nor too firm. "Mr. Stark, I'm Peter Parker. I, uh, was accepted for your internship program?" Unfortunately, despite Peter's strong handshake (represents confidence, Wade said) Peter's voice still wavered, and his statement ended up sounding more like a question.

Stark gave a kind, if formal smile and said, "Pleased to meet you, Peter. And by all means, geek out. I know a fanboy when I see one. I won't judge." He waggled his eyebrows and, honestly Peter was meeting Tony Stark, so… Stark was right. Peter was totally fanboying his little heart out at meeting, hello, the foremost mechanical engineer/scientist in, like, the world.

Peter gave an excited little squeak, and jumped right in. "Oh my God, Mr. Stark. It is such an honor to meet the man who got into MIT at 15 and in four years graduated with two masters and who pretty much cleared the field with your work in quantum physics. I honestly cannot even believe that someone so advanced in the fields of electrical and mechanical engineering would accept me into their program. It is such an honor to work with such an esteemed individual and now I am blabbering, but it is just so good to be standing into the same _room_ as someone who was actually able to make clean energy for the future more than a mere fantasy with the invention and use of the Arc reactor and who actually has plans for using it in the works. Do you even know? And you created your own AI who has become practically sentient, not to mention able to think and process data faster than a human's mind. I just met him in the elevator and he was super cool and very life-like, so like, kudos!" Peter stopped himself with a quick bite to his lip, and in a more sedate tone said, "I mean, thanks for this opportunity and everything, but right now I can kind of only focus on the fact that I'm in the same room with the guy who built a working life-support and suit in a cave, you know?"

Stark gave a delighted little laugh and looked at Ms. Potts where she still stood behind Peter. "I like this one. I'm keeping him."

"Well he _is_ your intern, Tony." She sounded exasperated, but fond, and Peter couldn't help but think that Ms. Potts was perhaps the Peter to Stark's Wade.

Tony gave him a mischievous smirk and then dragged him away to show him around the lab, which was glorious in its beauty and new and clean unlike any lab he could find on campus, and then introduced him to Dr. Banner which had Peter fanboying all over again. Dr. Banner could really blush, too, which Peter learned when he continued to gush over all of his accomplishments and dissertations. Of course, once Dr. Banner ("Call me Bruce") had started blushing, Peter just had to keep going. It was like a challenge, wasn't it? To see how much redder he could make the good doctor? But soon everything calmed, and Stark left Peter to do his own work and Peter could finally settle down into whatever tasks Stark had left him. Peter smiled at the little to-do list written in green ink, and relaxed into his seat, ready to work.

It was fun work, fiddling with little mechanized bots and trying to find the miniscule issues in miles of coding, and that explained why he almost forgot to take his lunch break, but Dr. Banner was kind enough to come over and remind him to go eat. Peter checked his watch and it told him he was already three minutes late to his date with Wade.

"Shit!" Peter exclaimed and hoped off his stool so quickly that he was afraid he'd revealed his super powers to call-me-Bruce, but Dr. Banner only laughed.

"Have somewhere to be?"

Peter's lips curled into a goofy smile (he could feel it being silly and couldn't stop himself) and said, "Yes, I've got a lunch date."

Bruce chuckled. "Well, go on then. Don't let an old man like me keep you waiting. Go have lunch and I'll see you in an hour?"

Peter gave a silly little salute and said, "sure thing" and scampered off to go have his first ever eating-at-work lunch with his boyfriend. Ok, yes he was excited. Shut up.

Finding the cafeteria (it was an office building, they definitely had a cafeteria) was not hard, but it was sort of far away, and by the time Peter arrived he was already ten minutes late. Which, looking around the cafeteria and not seeing Wade, Peter realized meant that he was still early. Wade wasn't good at times. Being late wasn't just something wade did, it was something he excelled at. When they had first started dating, and Wade was still in his this-is-a-hallucination-or-I'm-dreaming-or-Peter-is-drugged-and-I'm-too-selfish-to-snap-him-out-of-it-because-I-can't-stand-not-being-around-him phase he had been punctual to everything. Every date, or meeting, even between Spiderman and Deadpool. But the more comfortable he became with the idea that Peter was not going anywhere (except for those few times when they'd had fights so bad that Peter had left to spend the night at Aunt May's and Wade had mistakenly taken that for breaking up and he'd gone and done something stupid like get himself killed, or blow up a building, or write Peter a sonnet, etc. etc. etc.) the more often he was late. Not because he meant to be late, but he just wasn't good at keeping appointments. He always got side-tracked.

So Peter stood in line and got double orders of chicken curry, double orders of potato wedges, a cup of fruit for him and another order of potato wedges for Wade, and then another order of potato wedges for Wade. What? They didn't have anything remotely Mexican or hotdogs, almost-french fries were the next best option. And yes, the stringy dude running the cash register did look at him weird, but who cared what he thought? Peter was on a date!

He snagged a booth at the back of the cafeteria and opened his fruit cup. Wade probably wouldn't be much longer, but if he was super late Peter still only had an hour lunch so his food had to get eaten at some point. He popped a grape in his mouth and kept an eye on the door. Of course, because he was specifically waiting for Wade, it was not Wade who next walked through the door. It was Black Widow.

Now, why the Black Widow would deign to eat cafeteria food when she had her own kitchen upstairs (They all lived in their own suites upstairs, Wade had told him one afternoon, and they had even given Wade his own place, a smaller, guest-roomier feeling place, but a place all the same. Wade had told them he had a place, but they hadn't believed him, thought he was just trying save face) peter didn't know. The room was relatively empty, and no one even glanced up when the fierce looking woman entered, but Peter couldn't help but think that that was more because the Avengers were weird and everyone had gotten used to it and not because the assassin was being sneaky.

She looked around her, taking in everything, every chair out of place, every spat of conversation, and very briefly her eyes landed on Peter, he saw her glance fleetingly at the tray of food in front of him, the slice of pineapple half-way to his mouth, before dismissing him. She swung around, her short red hair fanning out behind her, and raised her wrist to her lips. Some sort of communication link in her sleeve cuff? She spoke into it, and it was quiet, too quiet for a normal person to hear, but Peter was Spiderman, could hear more than the average human. She said, "He's not here. I'm going to finish sweeping the rest of the floor and then I'll head up to the roof."

Peter glanced away.

It must be some Avengers business then. Wasn't his place to eavesdrop.

Peter was halfway through Wade's second order of potato wedges when the man himself walked through the door. Well, walked was too kind a word. He flounced in, dressed to the nines in his full Deadpool regalia. Katanas strapped to his back, guns strapped to his thighs, and a belt loaded with probably explosives around his waist. Red and black really did look good on him.

Wade spotted Peter and skipped over to his table, grabbed the plate of chicken curry that Peter had set before himself, and crouched on the back of the seat opposite Peter. He curled his legs up under him and for a split second Peter worried that Wade would fall flat on his face, sitting criss-crossed on the top of a seatback. But this was Wade Wilson, doing the impossible was practically his M.O.

"Hello, you sexy thang!" Wade squealed and lifted the bottom of his mask just far enough to be able to feed himself, and continued, all the while stuffing food into his mouth. "What's a gorgeous young man like you doing in a place like this?"

Peter huffed playfully and gave Wade a fake pout. "Waiting for my boyfriend, actually. What are—"

"Got him," said a voice from above and a blond man wearing a leather jacket dropped from the ceiling onto their table.

"What?" Peter exclaimed, shooting backwards. He had just enough sense of mind to keep himself from clinging to the walls or webbing the man in the face, but he couldn't keep the surprise from his voice. He sneaked a glance upwards and saw that the man had dropped from a vent above their table.

"Helloooooo Clinty-boo," Wade sing-songed and stuffed another handful (yes handful, he was using his hands, not silverware) of curry into his face.

The man, Clint (must be Hawkeye) gave Wade an exasperated look and said, "Deadpool, we need you for the debriefing. Get back to the conference room."

Wade let out a little, high-pitched whine which made a small smile appear on Peter's face.

"Deadpool, move it!" Clint said again, and Wade reluctantly unfolded himself from his position on the table.

"Fine," he said in his most petulant voice, "but I'm taking this with me." He grabbed the tray with all of the food on it and held it close to chest.

"Deadpool," Clint began, his voice low and dangerous, "I do not have time for your shenanigans. Leave the poor boy his food."

Peter put up his hands, "No, it's fine. Take it."

Clint gave him an assessing gaze, but finally nodded.

"And I'll see _you_ later, Mr. Sex Appeal," Wade put in, winking saucily in Peter's direction before sauntering off.

Clint strode after Wade, saying something along the lines of, "No you won't. You are not allowed to harass people trying to eat their own lunch. He might have let you eat it, but you _will_ pay that kid back for whatever you stole from him today, got it?"

"Oh, I'll pay him back all right," Peter heard Wade say in his most seductive voice, and then Clint groaned and the door closed behind him, and Peter could hear nothing more.

Peter smiled to himself and got up from the table, content to head back to work since Wade was no longer available to keep him company.

Back in the lab Bruce was elbow deep in what looked like a torn-open toaster sprouting alfalfa, but he looked up when Peter walked in and asked, "How was lunch?"

Peter gave a little laugh. "Not too bad. Kind of got high jacked before it could really begin, but there's always tomorrow."

Now Bruce looked interested. He removed his arms from the foliage and asked, "High jacked? How?"

Peter gave a little wave. "Some guy jumped in, and I didn't get to eat much. Actually, there were a lot of people jumping around, coming in and out. And by a lot, I mean three. But three is kind of a lot."

Bruce's brow furrowed. "Do you know who they were?"

"Going by what they were calling each other and the fact that I own a TV and actually watch the news, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Deadpool, though Deadpool doesn't really count because he's—"

"Deadpool? Really?" His eyes got this far away look like he was seeing right past Peter.

"Yeah…" When Bruce didn't immediately explain, Peter asked "Why?"

Bruce shook his head and refocused on the young man before him. "Well, he's…ah…sort of a loose cannon at the moment. But he never really eats here? He socializes, sure, practically dotes on the rest of us when he isn't, you know, accidentally blowing things up, but he's always eager to get things done and get out." And then in an almost flippant tone, "I wonder if he has someone waiting somewhere else."

Peter frowned. "Well, actually, yes, I—"

An alarm went off throughout the lab, cutting off what Peter was saying. Bruce quickly checked his phone and his eyes went wide.

"My apologies Peter, I've got to go. Avengers stuff, you know? Terribly sorry." He was halfway out the door when he turned back and said, "We'll finish this some other time, alright?"

Peter nodded and Bruce left, but their conversation was soon the farthest thing from Peter's mind. He was a little preoccupied with whatever might be happening in New York that needed the Avengers. Wade was out there. And Spiderman couldn't help because Peter needed an alibi.

He hadn't thought this through. How was he supposed to fight crime without the Avengers noticing that Peter disappeared around the same time Spiderman showed up? The cameras placed everywhere around the tower kind of destroyed the possibility of sneaking out.

But before he could get too caught up in _that_ train of thought, his text alert went off, and he looked at his phone for a message from Wade:

 _Sorry Sweetums, might be a little late for dinny. Mutant rats attacking NYC again. Jeeeeezus. Love, Pookie, I mean Wadey, I mean honey-bear 3_

Peter gave the phone a slow smile before putting it away and getting down to work. He had a toaster to de-alfalfa.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Fritos; in which Wade is sweet, but Spiders are immune

Day two of interning at SI was…good. Tony had started calling Peter Peter, and had asked Peter to call Tony Tony. So, now he was on first-name basis with two of the Avengers. Time to celebrate!

And then Tony asked Peter to help hack into SHIELD's database, and even though Peter knew that Tony was only asking to test him (because Hello! He was Tony Stark. He could fucking hack into the Pentagon, he didn't need help getting into SHIELD), and that it was really really really illegal, he did it because it was fun and Tony and his running commentary was hilarious and this was practically the best job ever!

And then lunch! Which meant Wade time, and their first ever (not counting the failed attempt on day one) lunch break date.

Bruce waved him off again, and even Tony was there to wish him happy eatings!

Walking into the Cafeteria, Peter's face lit up because there was Wade, lounging on the table of the booth Peter had sat in the day before, with chimichangas and unopened bags of Fritos strewn across his chest. "Hey, Sexy Mama!" Wade shouted from across the room and Peter could feel his face heat up and a smile tugged on his lips that refused to go away even as he tried to dampen it.

He walked quickly over to Wade and snagged a bag of Fritos that had been lying innocently over Wade's left nipple. "What did I do to deserve such a buffet laid out before me?" Peter asked as he opened the bag and popped a handful of salty, orange curly, goodness into his face.

"I prefer the word smorgasbord, actually." Wade rolled his eyes and sat up, causing most of the food to fall unceremoniously to the booth. "Well, honey-boo, Señor Bow-and-Arrow insisted that I pay back "that poor boy" and I thought, why not? You do so much for me, sweetums, why not give you a little something extra?"

He gestured down at himself and subsequently also the fritos and chimichangas that were lying in heaps on the bench below him.

Peter snorted and shoved another handful of chips into his mouth. "You are perfect," Peter said slowly, trying to be understood around his mouthful of food.

Wade gave a fluttery little hand gesture in the air between Peter and himself, and Peter could see the crease in his mask that meant that he was smiling widely beneath the layer of spandex. Before he could say anything, however, the sound of the cafeteria doors crashing open drew both of their attentions towards the two assassins who were making their way over to the booth that Wade was still lounging in.

When Wade caught sight of them he whined. "C'mon guys? I didn't skip out on anything today! Leave me alone!"

Hawkeye grimaced at Wade and held out a hand to help Wade to his feet. Black Widow gave Peter an appraising look and Peter could totally tell why people would be horrified of her. As it was, Peter was a superhero, he was strong, so he only gulped the rest of his Fritos down, ignored the way the chips almost lodged in his throat, and tried to ignore the tensing of his shoulders. She looked him up and down before asking in an almost flippant tone, "Is this guy bothering you?" She jerked a thumb over at Wade who stuck his tongue out at her (not easily done in a mask).

Peter shook his head emphatically, but Black Widow wasn't looking at him any longer.

"Deadpool," she said quietly, and Peter could see that even Wade straightened up under her powerful gaze.

"Yes, little missy?" Wade said, in his most southern of Cowboy voices. He tipped an imaginary hat. "What can I do you for?"

Black Widow's eyes narrowed. "Let's go. Steve wants to talk to you."

"And what did I tell you about harassing—" Hawkeye started, but Wade interrupted him with a whine.

"But Cliiiiinnnt! I even took your advice, see?" He waved his hands at the bag of Fritos in Peter's hand, and the pile of food strewn across the booth. " _I_ bought the food this time."

Hawkeye made a disgruntled noise and dragged Wade out of the room, Wade complaining the entire time.

Peter was left with only the Black Widow and a pile of fast food for company. She let out a sigh and crossed her arms over her chest. "Sorry about him. He's not so bad really, but he doesn't seem to understand—"

"No worries, really!" Peter interrupted her, and he waved his Fritos bag around to prove his point.

Black Widow's eyes narrowed, but after only a few seconds of Peter being frozen in absolute terror under her gaze, she turned around and walked out.

Peter let out a relieved sigh and slumped down into the booth. Only when he heard a muffled pop come from beneath him did he remember the bags of chips. He fished his cell out from his pocket, sent a quick _What did Captain America want? See you at home. Still having Enchiladas for dinner?_ to Wade, gathered up the scattered food, and headed back to the lab. He could eat the Chimichangas and Fritos just as easily alone at his worktable as he could alone in the cafeteria.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Rare Minerals; in which bears are not pets. Please. No seriously.

"Well," Wade said, from where he was, curled around Peter piggy-back style as Peter swung around New York in his Spiderman suit, "he actually talked about you."

Wade's voice was uncharacteristically serious and that alone caused Peter to make a pit stop on the roof of an office building only half a mile from their apartment. Wade clambered off of Peter's back and sat on the edge of the building, his back to the skyline.

"What about?" Peter asked and scratched the back of his head. He itched to take off his mask so he could run his fingers through his hair, a habit he just couldn't shake, even though it was a sure-fire way for anyone who knew him to be able to tell that he was confused.

Wade kicked his feet against the concrete. "I wasn't really paying attention, actually."

A snort escaped Peter before he could finish fully comprehending what Wade had said. "What?"

Wade smiled up at Peter. "He called me in, all of the Avengers actually, and sat me down to talk about you, Petey-pie, but then I started thinking about all those chimichangas I just _left_ there that I couldn't really concentrate. I mean, chimichangas, Baby Boy! And I just left them!" He threw his hands in the air in a totally scandalized manner and Peter couldn't stop a smile from lighting his face.

"Don't worry, Wade. I gathered them up. Then I ate some, 'cause I was hungry, but the left-overs are in the fridge at home."

Wade jumped to his feet and planted a spandex-on-spandex kiss on Peter's cheek. "I love you so much!"

Peter laughed but then a zing went up his spine and he straightened.

Wade lazily stretched. "That Spidey sense of yours tingling?"

Peter noded and scanned the surrounding area. There! He heard a scream coming from three alleys over.

Peter looked over at where Wade lounged. "Coming?"

"Maybe later, sexy!" Wade said and wiggled his hips suggestively. "But right now I think I'll let you take care of this. Too many sightings of Deadpool and Spidey teaming up and people are going to start getting _ideas_."

Peter let out a short laugh and stepped onto the edge of the building. "We're _dating_ , Wade."

"They don't know that," Wade scoffed playfully, and made a shooing motion with his hand. "Go on, then. I'll meet you at home, eh?"

Peter nodded absent-mindedly and dove off the building.

Another scream, this time a higher pitch.

Peter's arm shot out, a string of web attaching itself to a corner of an office building, and then he was flying through the air, another shot of web, two more swings and he was dropping into a dark side street right behind a would-be mugger. The guy had a balaclava on and was pointing a gun at man in a polo shirt. Behind the man was a little girl with pigtails, polo's daughter probably, and her eyes lit up when she saw Peter behind the bad guy.

"Give me your money!" The guy demanded, and he took a menacing step forward. The polo-man's hands were raised above his head and he too watched carefully as Spidey mimicked the bad-guy's movements behind the guy's back.

Peter noted that the man held the gun in a loose grip, and that his hand shook infinitesimally beneath the gun's weight. He was nervous. Definitely not a hardened criminal then.

But, you know, still holding a gun to a dad and an eight-year-old (she looked eightish. Maybe nine. Ten. Maybe seven, whatever) was super not ok, so…still going down.

Peter poked the guy on the shoulder. "You know, balaclavas are sooo last year." The man spun around, but Peter was already using the man's shoulder as a hand hold, and then he swung up, kicked off the wall above the man's head, and clothes-lined the guy to the ground. "Now I'm not usually a fashion police sort of guy," Peter shrugged and looked down at the groaning man on the ground, "but I'm used to a higher caliber bad-guy. Suits or something. Maybe a solid mask. None of that ski affair, half-price at Dick's or whatever."

The man groaned again, and tried to aim his gun at Peter, but Peter made a tsking noise and shot a web at the gun. "Yoink!" Peter pulled at the web and the gun came flying towards him which he caught effortlessly.

A startled squeak behind him reminded Peter that he wasn't alone, and he turned to see the father-daughter pair hugging each other.

"That's sweet," Peter said and then patted the father's shoulder. Before the either of them could say anything Peter heard a shout from…four blocks over? "Well, tonight is going to be a busy night, I can tell already." He turned towards where he'd heard the sound come from. "Byeee!" he shouted over his shoulder as he webbed away.

"Why is it about Tuesdays that have villains running every which way trying to ruin everyone's night?" Peter asked himself as he soared through the city, slinging webs left and right.

There—was that a bear clinging to a fire escape?

He swung closer.

Yes. Yes it was. And it wasn't any baby bear or koala or anything, this was a full-grown grizzly hanging on to the outside of the fire escape rail for dear life.

"I do not get paid enough for this!"

Peter dropped onto the sidewalk beneath the flailing bear where a group of concerned citizens were watching the bear struggle.

"So…. What's going on here?" he asked in what he hoped was his most authoritative tone.

A woman with short dirty blonde hair wearing scrubs turned to face him. "I'm not sure? He—it—he was hanging there when I got home. Bev called the police" a small wiry Asian woman waved at Peter "but they said to just wait for animal control to arrive."

Peter raised an eyebrow at her. "And this isn't freaking you out? Even a little? I mean, I'm Spiderman and this has even got me thrown."

A man in a green work jacket spoke up. "Well, yeah, this is really weird. But the poor thing's been stuck there for a few hours now—"

"Hours?"

"—and we've all kind of gotten used to him. Feel sorry for the guy of course."

Bev spoke up, "Do you think you could at least get him down? Animal control can take him somewhere nice, but I don't know how they plan on getting him to the ground first."

Peter shrugged. "Uh…I can try."

The first woman smiled, relieved. "Thanks, I—"

Peter held up a hand, "Wait!" he fished a vibrating phone out of a pocket he'd sewn into his suit and saw that it was Wade calling. "I've got to take this," he swiped to answer and then held the phone up to his ear, "Hello?"

" _Hello, pookie_ ," Wade said on the other end of the line, " _what're you up to?_ "

Peter looked up at the bear. It was gnashing at the railing with its teeth, and one of its feet slipped off the steel floor. The beast trembled and tried to right itself without falling.

"Oh nothing much. You?"

" _Making dinner, boo. Enchiladas, your favorite._ "

"Your favorite."

" _Same difference_."

With a small spurt of web, Peter's phone was stuck to his head, leaving his hands free.

"No it's not. Listen, babe, I might be a little late. I'll probably have to wait for the cops to show up for this one." He looked up at the bear again, tried to see what angle the creature would fall at, and began constructing a net beneath the bear with his webs.

" _Why, what's up Petey-pie._ "

Peter sighed. "I'm on the job," he said, a hint of warning in his voice.

" _Spidey-poo then_."

Peter rolled his eyes and added another layer of webbing. The net was attached to the brick wall of the apartment complex, and one corner was attached to a stop sign and another to a trashcan.

"Honey, I'm currently weaving a web to catch a bear with. And then I'll have to wait for the cops to protect the populace from said possible rampaging bear. Put the Enchiladas on low, they'll keep."

" _Ooohh, are you bear-hunting?_ "

Peter tested the web with his hands, pulling at different threads to make sure they would be strong enough to take the bear's weight.

"Not that kind of catching. I'm not running after some furry beast that could mangle me with one paw tied behind his back."

" _Give yourself some credit, my arachnid lover. You're pretty resourceful._ "

Peter rolled his eyes. "What I mean is that there is a bear above me who might fall, and I'm making a net to catch it before it hits the ground so if it falls I won't have to clean bear guts off the suit. And the ground."

The threads were holding. Test #2, Peter jumped onto the net and hopped up and down. Wheeeee! Bouncy! Maybe he should quit superheroing and go into the trampoline-making business. And yes, they were still holding.

" _How did a bear get up wherever it is?_ "

"No one is really sure."

Peter patted at his phone to make sure it was adhered to his ear well, and then began scaling the wall of the apartment building.

" _Can we keep him?_ "

"Definitely not."

" _Awwwwww! But we need a pet, Spidey Babey! Someone to keep me warm at night when you're off doing Spiderman things_."

"One, we don't need a pet. We are barely home enough to feed ourselves, never mind feeding an animal, and taking it out, and whatever people do with pets. Two, what do you mean keep you warm at night? Whenever I'm doing Spiderman stuff, you're out too doing Dea—" Peter looked down at the mass of people who were all probably listening to his side of the conversation. "You know, you stuff. _And_ , you are now part of an awesome boy-band, so really, I'm alone more than you are."

Peter reached the bear, and this close he could tell how scared the creature really was. The bear's eyes were wide, his pupils dilated. There was foam dripping out of its mouth, and its head whipped back and forth, trying to look all around itself constantly. Peter reached a hand out slowly, trying not to startle the beast, but the bear swung at him with a free claw, and then proceeded to wobble on the railing from the sudden shifting of its weight.

" _All the more reason to keep Teddy—we can name the bear Teddy, right? It would just be a waste if we didn't—around. He'll keep me company when you're gone, and keep you company when I'm gone._ "

Peter's eyes narrowed, focusing on how to get the bear down safely, which limbs to incapacitate with his webbing that would cause the least amount of damage.

"We are _not_ keeping the bear as a pet. We live in an _apartment_ , W—Babe. That's not enough room to keep a bear."

Peter shot a web at the bear's front paws, webbing them together, and then another web at his back paws, webbing _them_ together.

" _I'll buy us a cabin somewhere in the woods. Then Teddy can roam free when neither of us are home_."

The bear fell, having lost the ability to hold on to anything, and the crowd below gave a worried gasp, but Peter shot out another web which wrapped around the bear's limbs and caught the creature before it had dropped more than a few feet.

"You aren't buying us a cabin. We are not keeping a bear as a pet. Ok, actually, you can buy us a cabin, because it might be nice to spend some vacation time out in the forest. Nature is pretty cool, or so I hear."

Peter lowered the bear slowly, adding more webbing to the rope to let the bear descend at an even pace.

" _A romantic getaway!_ "

The bear let out a confused growl but didn't fight against the web's hold on his paws.

"Yeah. Maybe in a few years, when New York quiets down a little, and they don't need Spiderman getting underfoot all hours of the day and night."

The bear finally touched the net, and Peter released the web he was holding, letting he bear fall onto the trampoliney web-net.

" _Or our honey moon!_ "

Peter laughed and dropped down into a crouch next to the net where the bear was struggling to get upright. It was having a hard time, since what it was sitting on was constantly moving, and all of its limbs were out of commission.

"Are you proposing?" Peter asked, and it was playfully said, but then there was a pause on the other end of the line. Wade cleared his throat. And then again.

" _Actually—_ "

Peter shot to his feet. "No! No, you are doing this in person. I am coming right home, screw the bear. Wait! I'll be there in a sec! Oh my god!"

Peter quickly twisted his web into a makeshift tent-like cage, trapping the rolling bear in its confines. Then he shot a web at the top of the apartment building and was swinging away.

The last thing he heard before he swung off was the scrubs-lady asking, "But what about the bear? And animal control?"

Peter gave an excited little laugh as he swung, and shouted back, hopefully loud enough to be heard, "The police can handle it, lady! I'm a little busy at the moment, getting engaged!"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Fiancé; in which Peter shows off his new jewelry

Peter twisted his engagement ring (ENGAGEMENT RING!) around his ring finger as he stared at the computer at his work table in SI. Wade had actually proposed! It was awkward and wobbly, but very sweet and Peter had kissed him before he'd even had time to say yes. And then he'd said yes, and then kissed him again. His boyfriend—no! His _fiancé_ had then carried him off to the bedroom and they'd spent quite a bit of time in there. That morning, before Peter had headed to work, Wade had thrown the ring (literally thrown it) at Peter. It was just a thin band made of steel, but it had Wade and Peter's names etched around the inside, and seeing their names curling around each other like that warmed Peter's heart.

He shook his head to clear his head. Yes, he couldn't stop thinking about his fiancé. Yes, he was excited because he had a _fiancé_! But that didn't mean that he could get away with not focusing at work. He shook his head again and tried to focus on the microscope he was looking into. He adjusted the lens.

Nope, just as fuzzy.

He adjusted the lens again, drawing the particle into focus.

A tap on Peter's shoulder had him turning around to look into the kind face of Dr. Banner.

"Peter, Tony and I were wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with us today?" Peter raised his eyebrows, and Bruce went on to explain. "We just noticed that you've been eating alone and we thought it might be nice to eat with friends. If you have other plans we understand, of course."

Peter shook his head. "Honestly, it sounds awesome, but—"

" _My Anaconda Don't_ " Nicki Minaj sang from Peter's pants pocket. He blinked and dug his phone out. For some inexplicable reason, Wade was always changing the text alert on Peter's phone for when Wade messaged, and for the past month it had been Nicki Minaj. The text read, " _Hola Boo-boo! Guess what? Imma hafta back out on lunch today sadface :( The avenging idiots are sending me out on recon? I don't know. Something far far below my obvious skill set, baby. I will meet you at home I guess. Unless you wanna play hookie and follow me to Wisconsin? I know, I know, you can't cuz you're a goodie two shoes :P I'll pick up Chinese on the way home. See ya later, snookums!_ "

Peter blinked at his phone, let himself process what had just happened. Then he turned back to Bruce. "Uhhh… Nevermind? I'd love to join you guys for food."

Bruce smiled and ran a hand through his salt and pepper curls. "Lunch plans fall through?"

Peter nodded.

"Well then you have no excuse not to eat with us. Come on. Gather your things. I think Pepper ordered Thai. You like Thai?"

"Sure." Peter stuffed his phone back in his pocket, and the two of them headed to the elevator.

When the doors closed, Bruce addressed Jarvis, "Jarvis, could you take us to the common room please?"

"Of course, Dr. Banner," Jarvis said and his voice echoed almost ominously through the small room. Peter decided to chalk it up to his own accelerated heart rate, because Jarvis was a pretty cool guy, and Bruce didn't look like he'd just heard something ominous. It was definitely all in Peter's head then. And speaking of why he might be a little frightened…

"Wait, are we venturing up into Avengers territory?" The question ended with a little squeak that Peter would totally deny having spouted.

Bruce grinned. "Yes sir-ee!

Peter gulped and let out a high pitched giggle. "Like, the Avengers? The actual Avengers?"

Bruce gave a little pout. "You do know that me and Tony are Avengers too, right?"

Peter waved his hands around his head. With ever floor they passed his stomach dropped a little farther. "It's not the same!" He didn't want to say that it wasn't the same because he'd already spent time with Tony and Bruce and felt safe with them, but they were going into territory where em _more_ /em people would be able to see him in his comfortable state, and do you know what would happen then? He would slip and people would figure out he was Spiderman, and then everything would change! These people were spies, and gods, and smart people and, and, and—

Peter swallowed the bile working its way up his throat and gave Bruce his calmest smile.

"Sorry. You're right. It's just you know—I _did_ freak out about meeting the two of you as well, right? And now I'm coming into the _house_ —the, the _living area_ of really famous smart people, strong people? It's just kinda—" Peter's hands flew up around his head in the international sign for BOOM, "whoa. You know?"

Bruce gave Peter a guilty look. "I'm sorry. I didn't even think—"

"No! It's fine! Really, I just…"

The elevator gave a little ding as the doors opened, and Bruce led Peter out into the living area. Peter felt _no_ qualms about staring at the area, and _yes_ that was a little bit because he was in _the Avenger's home_ and he was still a fanboy. But then he found himself not just checking out the half-circle of leather couch and the giant TV, and the big circular dining room table, but also checking all of the windows for latches for easy access, and doors that could lead outside, escape routes. His eyes skimmed over the kitchen, noting all of the knives and their placement so he could see if one was missing.

Only when his mind completely bypassed Tony and Ms. Potts who were both sitting at the giant dining room table with cartons of food in front of them, arguing at each other beneath their breath did Peter shake himself out of super hero mode and force himself to relax.

"Honey, I'm home!" Peter said at a deadpan, just loud enough for the two to be heard.

Tony swung his head around and a giant grin blossomed on his face. "Peter! Hotstuff!" Then he turned to Bruce. "So the retrieval mission was a success. Good going Banner!"

Banner scratched the back of his head, a light blush dabbing at his cheeks.

Ms. Potts motioned for Peter and Bruce to take a seat, and then started dishing out plates of delicious smelling food items that Peter could not pronounce. "So Peter, may I call you Peter?" Peter nodded. "Well, how do you like it here at Stark Industries. I haven't had time to talk to you since your first day here."

Peter smiled at the red-head. "I love it, I really do! Tony is great and Bruce is great and everything is just really great." It seemed that Peter had suddenly lost his ability to locate any variety of adjectives at all.

Ms. Potts laughed. "Well that's good. I know Tony talks very highly of you, which means something, believe me, but it's good to hear it from the victim's own mouth."

"Victim!" Peter laughed, relaxing now that _someone_ was being rude to him, in the kindest of ways of course. Peter turned to Bruce and asked in a faux whisper, "Does she know she's a CEO?"

Bruce snorted to cover a laugh and reached out for the plate Pepper was handing him.

Tony put on an affronted look. "I'll have you know that my girlfriend is the best CEO there ever was."

Ms. Potts gave him a knowing look and held out Peter's plate for him to take. But, when Peter reached a hand out to receive it, Ms. Potts gasped. Not really an expected response. All he'd wanted was some food. He hadn't done anything wrong, had he? Peter instinctually pulled his hand back, but Ms. Potts grabbed it and pulled it towards her, hauling Peter bodily across the table.

"This is new!" the woman accused, pointing at Peter's engagement ring (ENGAGEMENT RING!).

Peter blushed. "It is," he conceded.

Ms. Potts squealed, but it was Tony who spoke next. "Wait, you're married?"

"Engaged."

Ms. Potts rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, Tony. It's been less than a week. I don't think Peter could have gone from unengaged to married in three days."

"He could have eloped!" Tony said, defending himself with an irritated huff.

"Congratulations," Bruce said, and held his hand out. Peter shook it firmly, a smile on his face and a blush suffusing his cheeks.

"Sooooo," Tony asks, waggling his eyebrows, "you've got a fiancé now."

Peter nodded giddily. "He actually proposed last night. Tried to do it over the phone he got so flustered."

Ms. Potts laughed and handed Peter his plate, and they all dug in while Peter talked about Wade. It was really nice to finally be able to talk someone about his boyfriend. Peter didn't have many friends. Any, really. Some acquaintances in classes, but being Spiderman really put a damper on his social life, and it wasn't often that he was able to extol Wade's romantic gestures or wax lyrical about his boyfriend. Of course, by this point, it was obvious that not only did no one _know_ Peter was dating Wade, but they probably wouldn't approve of it, and Peter wanted this lunch to be light and happy, so he never mentioned Wade by name. But that didn't seem to matter to the others, and they teased him mercilessly about it nonetheless. Peter smiled. It was nice feeling this comfortable, and that was enough to let Peter finally relax

While Peter was busy blushing as he rambled on about his boyfriend, and while Pepper facilitated his obsession and excitement by asking questions about Peter and the boy's fiancé, Tony and Bruce locked eyes and exchanged quick nods. A short pact to protect such an innocent boy.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: The Midtown High Kid; in which Peter makes more friends and continues to feel awkward all of the time

When Peter left for work the next day, Wade gave him a good morning kiss and promised to definitely eat lunch with him that afternoon.

Instead when lunch hour rolled around, Peter got a text that said, " _Hola again, Sexy bear. I've got more bad news. They're sending me off to reconstruct the irish mafia, or something. I'm not really sure. In fact, I think this is all a deep-seated plot to keep me from eating with my boyfriend, since I'm always being sent off just when his lunch break starts_."

Peter sent him a text with only one word, a correction: " _Fiancé._ "

Wade responded with an emoticon of a wedding room, and text that said " _Love you. See you at home, Sweetie-Petey?_ "

So, when Bruce asked, "You going to join us for lunch today?" Peter could do nothing but shrug.

In the elevator Bruce warned him, "Tony and Pepper couldn't make it today. Something about having to run a company?" He gave such a mockingly confused expression that Peter couldn't help but laugh.

"So is it just you and me then?"

Bruce shook his head. "No. Thor and Steve will be there too. Steve is cooking."

Peter gulped, and he could feel the blood draining from his face, but he refused to walk into the trap of scared intern meeting saviors of the human race cliché, so he squared his shoulders and held his head up high. In his periphery he could see Bruce struggling to keep a straight face.

The doors opened and Bruce led Peter back to the dining room where Captain America (cue fanboyish screech) was dishing out meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and Thor was spinning his hammer above his head almost absent-mindedly.

"I hate you," Peter whispered at Bruce out of the side of his mouth, and Peter could see his lips quirk upwards in a quick sketch of a smile before stepping ahead of Peter and into the room.

"Steve, Thor, I'd like you to meet Peter Parker. Peter interns with Tony down in R&D mostly, though he sometimes helps me out too. Peter, this is Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America," Peter gave him a dirty look (as if he wouldn't know who Captain America was!) and Bruce smirked back at him, "and Thor Odinson, a visitor to Earth from Asgard."

Thor gave a little wave and the Captain wiped his hands off on a little towel before sticking out his hand for Peter to shake. "Call me Steve, please." Being this close to Captain America was almost making Peter swoon, but he forced himself to do nothing but smile and say, "Then call me Peter," instead of fainting or demanding an autograph or jumping out the window.

Hellooooo! This was Captain-Fucking-America!

Thor stood and stuck his hand out awkwardly. "I have been told that it is custom on Midgard to shake hands good-naturedly. I welcome you Peter of Parker. Perhaps we shall fight side by side some day and become not only comrades and friends but also brothers in blood."

Peter blinked, and he could hear Steve snorting a little in the background, but Peter was adaptable if nothing else. In tenth grade there had been a Vietnamese foreign exchange student in his English class and everyone else had stumbled their way around talking to her, but Peter had been taught to accept people for who they were, no matter differences caused by language barriers or cultural differences. Thor was no different than Ngon.

Peter shook Thor's hand firmly and smiled. "I am afraid I wouldn't be much help in battle, but I am really honored that you would count me as worthy to fight beside. It would be great to count you as my friend." He gave as big a smile as he could muster and Thor let loose a booming laugh that rattled the windows.

"I very much like this one. Peter of Parker, we shall be brothers, if not in battle than is camaraderie!"

Peter smiled.

"Well," Steve said, motioning to the food laid out on the table, "lunch is ready."

They sat around the table, and it was no time before Peter was stuffing his face. He'd missed breakfast that morning, and had been on patrol late into the night, burning off more calories than he'd had time to replace.

"So," Peter said around a mouth of delicious, home-made mashed potatoes, "What's Asgard like?"

And they were off.

As it turns out Thor could talk about his homeland for an extraordinary amount of time. He talked about his father, Odin, mother Frigga, even his brother, Loki, who Peter knew had had a hand in the whole New York being destroyed by aliens thing. But that was ok, because family was family, and in all probability, if Aunt May went on a horrible rampage and killed lots of people, yes Peter would take her out (arrest! Not kill!), but he'd still love her and be proud of her accomplishments pre-murder.

"And Lady Sif swung at him with such force that he flew backwards, right off of the tower. We were frightened that he might have become damaged during such a fall, but when we looked over the edge, there was Volstagg hanging from the parapet by his finger tips." He laughed, and though Peter hadn't comprehended most of the story (it was confusing with all the different names and places, and people's relationships to Thor and each other) he still laughed, because even just watching Thor tell stories of daring deeds was funny since he gesticulated so wildly to prove points and to explain actions.

"What about you, young friend?" Thor asked when his mirth had lessened. "Do you have any tales of amazing feats? Adventures?"

If only he knew.

"No," Peter said with a small chuckle, "I'm afraid the closest I've come to any life-or-death adventuring were my SATs. Horrifying, those were."

Thor banged his fist down on the table, his lips stretched into a hearty grin. "You must tell me of Esaytees. They are some monster no doubt. How did you defeat this Esaytee?"

Bruce held up a hand to hide his mouth but he couldn't hide his chuckle.

"Actually," Peter explained through his own smile, "The SAT is an examination testing a person's worth concerning intelligence and knowledge. It is an assessment that you have to take before you can apply to college, or um, higher education? Depending on your score, it might be easier or harder to get into a college, a place of education, that is more prestigious."

Thor nodded sagely. "Ah yes. The hardest battles are always of the mind. Memory is a fickle mistress, and knowledge an unruly beast. You are very smart then, Peter of Parker?"

Peter blushed. "I do ok. And please, just call me Peter."

Thor laughed again. "Peter then, my wise comrade."

Peter sent Bruce a pleading look, but the scientist just shook his head. Instead it was Steve who saved him.

Captain America cleared his throat. "Well, Peter, how do you like interning here? You work for Tony in his shop, correct?"

Peter nodded. "And sometimes with Bruce too. We're currently studying this interesting vein of vegetation, a mutation if you will, that reacts to iodized metals of all things. It does not need fertilizer, or even sun or water as far as we can tell, in order to flourish." Steve gave a slow blink, and Peter took that to mean that he should explain in more basic terms. "For some reason there are alfalfa sprouts growing in one of Tony's old old old machines, a toaster, and we're trying to figure out how and why."

Steve smirked a little. "And you like working for Tony?"

Peter laughed. "Yeah. He's a little rough around the edges, but he's a genius, always has another angle to look at, it's great. And it's good to be able to do science without having to worry about grades all the time. Homework is just such a hassle. And tests, dear god I want to stab my eyes out around finals. No, this is great, all the fun without any of the repercussions."

"That doesn't mean you can slack, you know," Bruce threatened good-naturedly around a slice of meatloaf.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Peter drew an X over his heart with his finger. Then he turned back to Steve, "Would it be awful if I asked you a question about the Avengers? Or actually I just mean, like, when you fight in general? I know you probably get these all the time, and I don't mean to be all fan-y about it, so totally tell me if I can't and I won't bother you, I promise."

Steve almost choked trying to laugh with a mouth full of mashed potatoes. When he finally caught his breath he said, "No, go ahead."

"Ok," he took a deep breath, "when you take off the cowl after fights, do you have bed head?"

Bruce full on spit the remnants of meatloaf in his mouth across the table and succeeded not at all in trying to keep himself from laughing. Thor looked confused for a moment and turned to Steve. "Friend-Steve, I too would like to know how you keep your locks looking so well-kept after hours in your helmet."

"So it _doesn't_ do the bed head thing?" Peter confirmed.

"Nay," Thor intoned darkly, "it does not."

There was a pause.

"Weird…" Peter drew the word out slowly.

Steve blinked in confusion. "It's just hair, guys. It does what it wants."

"You don't understand, Steve," Peter insisted, "I put on my…helmet, for my bike that I totally own, or a hat, for even just a second, and the moment it comes off my hair is everywhere!" He gestured with his fork towards his head. "It's a travesty. And a comb doesn't do nearly enough."

"Is that why you have that," Bruce also pointed toward Peter's head with his fork, "anti-gravity follicle thing going on?"

"You know Bruce, one of these days Tony is going to ask me to help him prank you, and I'm going to say yes."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Now that's just rude."

Looking back at the good captain, Peter could see him combing his hair with his fingers self consciously. Peter sighed, "I don't mean anything by it, really. I'm just kind of jealous. Are you sure you don't… do something to it? To make it stay all nice."

Steve shook his head, bewildered.

Thor looked down at his hands where they rested on the table. "Then it is a dark day indeed." He too took a moment to thread his fingers through his hair.

Steve tried to get out of whatever hole he'd fallen into by changing the subject. "So, you're a fan of the Avengers, I think?"

Peter gave Steve a nasty look. "Duh. I mean, hellooo, you like saved the city and America and the world. What's not to like?"

Bruce grimaced. "A lot of things. There was a lot of damage during the Chitauri incident and many people blame the Avengers for all of the destroyed buildings, rightfully so."

Steve too nodded, a guilty look on his face.

Peter could empathize. Sometimes doing your best wasn't good enough and stuff got wrecked. Sometimes even people got hurt, innocents caught in the crossfire, or hostages. Saving people was not an easy job, and it certainly wasn't one that came without casualties, whether they be human or inanimate.

"I mean, I guess you're kind of right on that one. The Avengers are at least partially to blame for the knocked down buildings." Bruce put down his fork and sighed. "But! Don't get me wrong, yeah you did some damage, but without you it would have gone a lot worse. We all would have _died_! I would be dead right now." Peter looked past Steve, out the giant glass windows that made up the walls of this floor. His gaze skittered over the skyline that New York was famous for and the blue skies. "And all of that would be gone. I know it sounds callous to say that there were acceptable casualties, but a few buildings are worth the lives of millions of people! Whoever doesn't get that can go shove a— a— I don't know, but not something nice, and not anywhere nice either."

Peter nodded his head decisively and put on a stern expression.

"And so yeah," Peter continued when no one spoke up. "I'm a fan of the Avengers. You save the world, or whatever. It's pretty cool. Pluuuuss, I might have been a fan of Captain America since literally forever. My Uncle Ben started buying me Captain America comics when I was four and I've never looked back."

Steve laughed a little.

"Then Steve is your favorite of the Avengers?" Bruce asked.

Peter shrugged. "He's certainly the only one with comics with his face on them."

Thor leaned in closer. "If it is not Steven, then who _is_ your favorite of the Avengers?"

Peter laughed a little hysterically. "I don't know. Um, you guys all work so well together. I mean, the fact that Iron Man incorporates his knowledge of mechanics and quantum physics into making and piloting his suit is pretty rad. And of course, Captain, you've got that wicked, jumping around, motorcycle riding, shield thing going on. Knocking bad guys in the head with a glorified Frisbee, no offense, is pretty legit. And Bruce, you get all big and angry, but no, I'm actually sorry, you're kind of a victim of human experimentation."

Bruce held up his hands. "I understand. The other guy doesn't exactly have much finesse."

Peter gave a guilty little shrug, but continued. "Thor, you're amazing ability to harness weather is, well, amazing, and you can fly with a hammer. Mind blown! And Hawkeye has like mad skills with a bow and arrow. Like, he can hit anything! I've seen the news footage, his aim is fantastic. But, you know, I think Black Widow might actually be my favorite, objectively speaking. In person she's kind of horrifying, but in the field she's amazing."

"And you're sure," Bruce asked with an innocent expression so genuine it had to be fake, "that your decision has nothing to do with the face that Natasha fights in skin tight leather?"

Peter stuck his tongue out at Bruce. "Oh shut it, Banner."

Thor laughed at Bruce's affronted expression and Steve said, "Well now we know that he's learning more than just mechanics with Tony. At this rate Peter will have the sass of a Stark in a week."

"I'll have you know that I've always been this sassy. I'm a witty guy."

Bruce gave him a deprecating look. "Uh-huh. You aren't getting off that easy. Why is Tasha your favorite Avenger, especially over me, the incredible Mr. Green."

Peter rolled his eyes. "I guess, at least partially it's because of the way she's completely able to control her body. I mean, have you seen those acrobatics? What is she, an Olympic-level gymnast or something? It's ridiculous. I mean, awesome, but still ridiculous. And then there's the fact that she named herself Black Widow."

"What about it?" Steve asked.

Peter shrugged. "I've got a certain fondness for spider based super heroes. I grew up in Forest Hills, attended Midtown High, that's all Spiderman territory. We were rooting for him before the lizard and electro. He was saving our hides back when he was just a little guy." He blushed a little, embarrassed to be talking about himself, "And he kind of does the gymnast thing too. Have you seen youtube videos of him fighting bad guys? It's all flip, flip, flip, contortion, web in the face. Black Widow is like a, uh, better version? A more grown up, constrained, knows what she's doing version?"

Honestly, Peter would kill for a one-on-one sparring session with the Black Widow as Spiderman. She was like, the master. Everything he could do, she could do better (minus the webbing and the sticking to things and the actual physical strength gifted to him by having spider stuff in his DNA). The things she could teach him. He could have swooned just thinking about it.

Thor grinned. "Then you praise Warrior Natasha for her skills and likeness to a hero closer to your home. That is honorable and commendable."

Peter blinked. "Thanks, I think. Oh, wait! You've got W—Deadpool on your team now, right?"

Steve winced a little.

Bruce looked incredulous. "Are you going to switch from the impossibly impressive assassin that is the Black Widow to the Merc with a Mouth?"

Steve gives a little shrug. "Well, he has at least given up his job as a mercenary." And then a little more darkly, "As far as we know."

Peter rolled his eyes. Wade had actually given up taking jobs as a mercenary around the time him and Peter had gotten together. Peter wouldn't have been able to, like, morally, date a guy who killed people for money. It was just one of those things. Some people couldn't date blondes, some couldn't date people who never put down the lid on the toilet, Peter couldn't date murderers. So yeah, Wade was murder-less. And now that he thought of it, what kind of fiancé was he that his boyfriend wasn't even his favorite Avenger. Granted Wade was on, like, temporary, you-aren't-a-real-Avenger-yet level, but still.

"Deadpool's not so bad." Peter shrugged. "He works with Spiderman sometimes."

Steve seemed to relax a little. "So it's more of a home team sort of thing?"

Peter shrugged. "I guess. How's he doing, by the way. He's kind of an Avenger now, right? How is that working out?"

It would be nice to hear from an unbiased source, AKA not Wade.

Thor frowned. "The Water of Death makes many references that I do not understand, but I do know that he does not take this job as seriously as one should."

Peter almost spit hearing Wade being called "Water of Death" but held it in. "Yeah, he's a funny kind of guy. Both funny, ha ha, and funny, like weird. I think he plays at being more flippant than he actually is."

Steve gave Peter a look he couldn't identify, but instead of saying anything about it he asked, "When do you guys have to return to work?"

Bruce looked at his watch and cursed, "Shi—I mean we're late. C'mon Peter."

Bruce stood from his seat and smoothed down his lab coat almost self-consciously, while Peter tried to quickly shove the rest of his food into his mouth before standing up.

He swallowed quickly, wincing as a chunk of food too large for comfort squeezed itself down his esophagus. "It was nice meeting you guys. Maybe we could hang out some time?"

Steve nodded and stood to shake Peter's hand once more. "I'd like that. You're an interesting kid."

"Verily," Thor agreed. "Someday we shall speak more of your knowledge-garnering abilities and hair."

Peter laughed and gave a short wave before scampering off to follow Bruce back to the lab. And the toaster.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Emoticons; in which your face is more than enough

By the next Wednesday, Peter was starting to think that he'd never actually get to hang out with his boyfriend at work, even though they both worked in the same building. It was ridiculous. Every day he'd plan to eat with Wade, and then around lunchtime he'd get a text from Wade saying that the Avenger were sending him off into the wide blue world. On the other hand, he's been eating with some combination of Avengers every day, so that was pretty cool, and they were all really awesome people, but it still didn't beat actually eating lunch with Wade.

And sure enough, just as lunch hour rolled around, Peter got a text from Wade saying he couldn't make it today either. If it had been anyone else, Peter would have wondered why they hadn't just blown up by now and insisted on being free for lunch, but this was Wade. His biggest dream was working for the Avengers. He might bitch and moan every time someone forced him to do work, but he honestly wouldn't jeopardize life as an Avenger by slacking off.

Peter understood, honestly he did, and he still got to see Wade at home like normal. But that was just it! One of the reasons he was so hyped to work at SI was because he thought he'd be able to see Wade more. And he loved his job, yeah, but he wanted to see Wade at work at least _some_ of the time.

And maybe Peter had a guardian angel after all.

After lunch with Pepper (the only person available to eat with, the Avengers off doing Avenger stuff) in her office (where she insisted he call her Pepper, even though she was CEO of the company he interned for), he went back to his lab and hadn't walked two feet in the door before Peter's phone began insisting that it didn't want none unless Peter got buns, hun.

The text from Wade said: " _I know I missed lunch again, boo-boo, but I thought that since I missed seeing your face devour tacos once again, that I'd swing by your office (get it? Swing? Because I'm dating a spider?) and chill out. Just the two of us, Sexy. Plus, I haven't seen where my spidey-bear works yet and that is sacrilege!_ "

Peter paused before sending back a response. He wasn't sure what the protocols were for inviting significant others into the work space. This was the lab where Bruce Banner and Tony Stark worked, so there wasn't a lot of through-traffic, but it wasn't off-limits to non-sciency people either. Pepper came in often enough, though she was the CEO, so her access to the building should be unlimited, so maybe that didn't count? But the other Avengers dropped in occasionally, and even though Wade was Peter's boyfriend/fiancé, he was still an Avenger. He was probably allowed.

" _Sure. Swing by. Literally. If you don't physically swing through the door than I'm going to have to ask you to leave_."

A loud screeching noise that sounded suspiciously like his boyfriend echoed through floor, and before he could think about it, there was the sound of boots pounding on tile, the doors of the lab flew open, and there was Wade, dressed to the nines in his typical red and black, shooting a grappling hook at the ceiling. Then he swung in.

Peter let out a cheery laugh as Wade dropped down next to him and drew him into a languid kiss.

"Hola, boo-boo," Wade whispered into Peter's mouth once he had let up.

Peter nodded, trying to catch his breath, and leaned against his table.

Wade took the time to look around him. "So this is where you work, huh? Well, it does feel very sciency." Wade adjusted the settings of the microscope and swung one of the computer screens haphazardly. "Very you."

Peter grinned up at his boyfriend. "Nice to see you too."

Wade giggled. "Yes. I can finally have office sex with my hot boyfriend while our bosses are away."

Peter rolled his eyes. "No office sex, especially not with JARVIS everywhere."

Wade harrumphed and crossed his arms over his chest petulantly. "What's the point of getting us alone if no office sex."

Peter shook his head. "This isn't really even an office." Then his eyes narrowed, "Wait! You said 'getting us alone'… Did you have anything to do with the Avengers being sent away?"

Wade grinned wildly (it may seem like a weird adjective to use to describe a smile, but anything was possible where Wade was concerned). "Winky face!"

"Did you just say an emoticon at me?"

"At least I didn't say 'semi-colon end parenthesis.'"

Peter blinked. "It's honestly not much of an improvement."

Wade gasped melodramatically in faux-shock. "How dare you!"

"Wade, emoticons were invented to show emotions in writing, you know a fake face when a real face isn't available. Your face is _right here_."

Wade stuck out his lower lip.

"What I'm trying to say," Peter explained, "is that you could have just winked."

"I _could_ have, duh! But it isn't the same."

"It's better!"

"Lies!"

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, emoticons said out loud are almost useless. The subtleties of body language cannot be accurately represented through a series of words representing punctuation facsimiles of said emotional responses!"

Wade paused to think through what Peter had just said. And in response said "Colon, capital P."

Peter threw up his hands, but a small smile lit his lips. "You are hopeless."

"Less-than symbol, three."

"So sweet," Peter deadpanned, his arms crossed firmly across his chest.

Then, like a descending angel, Hawkeye dropped onto the scene.

Peter jumped back. "The fuck? Dude, what were you doing up there?"

Wade, who had not been affected by a full grown man dropping from the ceiling at all, said, "I think he lives up there."

Peter blinked. "Is he right? Is that where you live slash how you travel? I swear I've only ever seen you enter rooms through the ventilation system."

Wade nodded in agreement and then shook himself. "Wait! Why are you here? I thought you guys were all doing important Avengers things!"

"I came back a little early." Clint looked between the two a little confused. "Are you two getting along? I saw Deadpool down here and figured he was bothering you, but…"

Peter nodded slowly. "Uh, yeah. We're getting along fine."

Wade unholstered one of his guns and aimed it at various pieces of technology around the room. "Yeah! And I haven't even started shooting up the place yet!"

Hawkeye's eyes narrowed. "Were you thinking about doing that?"

Wade made little pew-pew noises as he mimicked shooting different parts of the room. Peter huffed out a laugh, an indulgent expression on his face. He couldn't help it. Wade's antics made Peter happy. And no doubt if anyone else mimed shooting up a science lab, Peter would have webbed them to the wall, but this was Wade.

Hawkeye looked between the two of them, a confused expression on his face, but instead of saying anything he just let out a sigh and grabbed one of Wade's arms. "Ok, Deadpool. I know hanging out with interns is fun, but it's time to go."

"Why?" Wade squealed as he tried to squirm out of Hawkeye's hold.

Hawkeye shook his head, and Peter could almost see his resolve hardening. "We've got things to do. Avengers things. Things that are not bothering the scientist Tony and Bruce work with."

As Clint manhandled a whining Wade out of the door, Peter couldn't help but say, just loudly enough for them to hear him as they left, in an almost petulant tone, "He _wasn't_ bothering me."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Games; in which Peter is living in one

So, yes, Peter had been hanging out with the Avengers for a few weeks now, and it was pretty great. Running around town as Spiderman, he'd always wondered if he'd someday run into the Avengers, at least for more than a few seconds, and it was a little surprising that it was as Peter that he got to do it. Plus they were like, heroes! Real heroes! Not that he wasn't a real hero, but still they were like, the real heroes.

Plus they were all super cool people besides. It was great just chatting with people. And they all seemed to like him, which was weird. Not weird because he didn't think he was likable, but because they were the _Avengers_ , and he was just some kid. A smart kid, but not someone who should be under their radar at all (and thinking that made him panic, for just a second, he swore! But for that one second he couldn't help but think that they'd found out he was Spiderman after all, and that they were just playing nice until they had time to unmask him and take him in to Shield for being a vigilante and arrest him or worse. But then he threw that thought out the window because he'd _definitely_ know if they suspected him. Spidey sense was good for something, after all).

And it was more than just lunch! Because yeah, most days he ate with at least some of the Avengers, but some of them also stopped by the lab to just chill. Steve was there most often, and he'd sit in the corner with a sketch pad and a number of pencils and charcoals and he'd just sketch, Peter would work on whatever Tony or Bruce had thrown at him earlier that day, and sometimes they'd chat, and sometimes they would just sit in comfortable silence.

Sometimes Wade would show up and (Peter loved those times the best because) Wade would just fly in like some sort of storm, leaving confusion in his wake. He'd threaten to shoot up the place, or flirt, and though Peter tried to keep it professional, he couldn't help blushing any time Wade tried anything funny in the lab. But those times were always getting shorter because Hawkeye ("Call me Clint, I swear to fuck. I like Hawkeye fine in the field, but this is my relax-y place. Thank you, Jesus.") would drop from the vents like frigging reverse deus ex machina and haul Wade away to finish his paperwork (and at home one night, curled in on each other on the couch, Golden Girls in the background, Peter asked "I suppose you couldn't just do it on time? Then he wouldn't have an excuse to drag you away." Wade had shrugged and said, "Paperwork is annoying. I 'd rather just go shoot things." Peter had smiled and given him a kiss.).

And Peter was also starting to get to know Clint and Black Widow better as well. (Clint had immediately insisted he be called by his first name. Black Widow sometimes glared him down if he took too long to answer a question. There was no familiarity there.) They also sometimes took to hanging out in the lab. Clint was funny, so Peter always counted him as good company. You never had to look far for a laugh if Clint was in the vicinity, and that was doubly true if Tony was in residence as well. The banter practically flew between the two of them. It was like watching a tennis tournament.

Black Widow never really talked much, but if you asked her a question very politely (not like Peter had asked her anything with anything less than perfect manners, thank you Aunt May) she would answer easily enough. It was at first disconcerting (and continued to be, if Peter was being honest) because she'd just sit in a corner of the room picking dirt from under her fingernails with a dagger, but Peter just had to know if she really could flip a man into a choke hold with only her thighs, because Spiderman could do it, but all he had is his new-ish (still) instincts and moves he'd seen on TV, and if someone with actual skillz could give him some advice that would be super! And so he'd asked her, and she'd continued cleaning her fingernails for another minute, making Peter fidget horribly and consider turning around and hiding under a rock, but then she'd flipped the dagger around in her hand, sheathed it, and began detailing exactly how one might go about flipping a man into a choke hold using only one's thighs, and she did it in the most logical and scholarly way. It was almost like listening to a lecture for one of his classes. And when she finished she asked if he had any questions (which he didn't because he already kind of understood the idea of it, and what he hadn't known she had been very thorough in explaining), he shook his head, and she returned to cleaning her nails with the dagger.

But, now that Peter thought about it, those three came in often: Steve, Clint, and Black Widow, but they never overlapped. It was almost like they were taking turns.

Peter blinked, and sat back from his microscope.

Why didn't they ever overlap? If they were coming by just to chill with him, it would make sense that sometimes there would already be someone in the room when one showed up.

Peter frowned, and looked over at where Clint was intensely playing Candy Crush on his phone. It was just the two of them in the room.

Peter furrowed his brow. That is actually how it usually was. Sometimes someone, Clint or Steve would come in when Tony or Bruce was in residence, but it was often when they had stepped out for whatever reason.

Were they guarding him? Taking different watches, like prison guards? Or security guards? Did they think he was going to steal something?

Peter tried to subtly study Clint. Clint was not watching Peter. He wasn't watching Peter at all.

Maybe bodyguards?

Peter almost laughed, why would they be protecting him? What would they be protecting him _from_?

He was probably being ridiculous.

It wasn't like there was someone after him, someone who was coming for him. In fact the only people he ever saw with real regularity were Pepper and the Avengers. And Wade of course, but Wade didn't count because he was an Avenger. And Peter's fiancé. There'd be no reason to protect him from Wade.

But the idea was stuck in Peter's head, and it became apparent that he was wrong. The more he thought about it, the more obvious it became. They never left him alone with Wade. If Wade showed up, he was always dragged off to finish paperwork, and he was always sent on missions at the exact time when Peter was eating lunch.

They were protecting him from his own fiancé.

He couldn't help but let out a small snort of amusement at that, and he waved off Clint's questioning glance. It suddenly felt like he'd been thrust into an on-going game, and everyone else knew the rules, but until this moment, he hadn't even known he'd been playing. But now he knew! And he was definitely going to win!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Winning; in which the Author sucks and could not write 1,000 words on pain of death

The next day before heading off to work, Peter left Wade a note telling him to meet Peter at the Pizzeria down the block from SI for lunch.

It was best to just leave Wade directions like that. If they had talked, they might have debated about any number of things from whether or not Wade could get away from work to if they really had to have pizza because Wade had been craving nachos and he knew this great place, only a five minute walk away, and oh please, Peter! Please! How can you say no to nachos?

So he left a note and went to work.

In the lab he couldn't stop smiling, causing Bruce and Tony to both look at him funny. But when Bruce asked why he was smiling so much, Peter just said, "Oh, I'm meeting my boyfriend for lunch."

Bruce gave him a rueful smile. "That mean you're abandoning us?"

Peter nodded.

Bruce gave a faux-dramatic sigh and said, "I guess that's fine. See you after lunch?" And Peter smiled and nodded before rushing out to meet Wade at Lorito's.

Wade was already there, in a booth in the back with an extra large half-hawaiian, half-meat lovers on the table. The pizza was even untouched. Wade had waited. Though his mask was already pushed up past his nose, so obviously he wasn't going to wait much longer.

"Hi, snookums," Wade said softly when Peter reached the booth, and leaned across the pizza for a long kiss.

When Peter sat back he was out of breath and blushing, but couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"So how is work?" Peter asked.

Wade shrugged. "A little busy, I guess. We found some remnants of Hydra in, like, Cambodia yesterday, so I'm thinking that SHIELD is going to send some of us off to take care of that in a few days. Not that the "us" ever really includes me." He pouted, but it didn't look even remotely genuine since he still had half a slice of pizza hanging out of his mouth.

"Sorry, babe. Just give it some time—"

Wade waved the words away like they were spelled out in the air in front of him and could be scattered by a light breeze. "I know, I know. Give them time to learn that I'm a totally awesome guy and that they've been missing out. I get it."

Peter gave him an indulgent smile. "Well, yes. Not the words I would have used—"

"I don't want to know what words you would have used."

"—but the meaning is the same."

Wade harrumphed, and stole a chunk of pineapple off of a slice on Peter's plate.

Peter rolled his eyes. "What did you escape just now? I know they usually throw something at you right at lunch, what is it today?"

Wade grimaced. "More paperwork, can you believe it? And I was actually reading some of it today, because I was getting bored of just sitting there, and would you believe it is the exact same stuff that they had given me last week?"

Peter's eyebrows shot up. "They're giving you copies of paperwork you already got?"

Wade nodded, and then looked around like he was about to say something scandalous. Peter leaned in close. "I know, it's awful rude of them. Especially since I put so much effort into burning the originals to ashes and hiding the ashes in the accountant's refrigerator."

Peter snorted and threw himself back into his seat. "I know we've had this conversation before, but if you just _did_ your work, there would be less work to _do_."

Wade rolled his eyes and stuck two slices into his mouth at once.

Peter quirked an eyebrow. "Why are you eating so fast, anyway?"

It turned out the Wade actually _did_ have work to do, like actual work that he should have already started, so they stuffed their faces pretty quickly, and Peter made it back to the lab before his break had ended.

(Not that they'd mind if he was late. A few times he'd even come into work late after accidentally sleeping in post a really long Spidey patrol night, and Tony had greeted him like nothing. Bruce had smiled, made a quick quip, but then dropped it immediately. He'd tried to stay late to make up the time, but Tony had just laughed and waved him off. "Growing boys need their beauty sleep. I'm not going to punish you for your biology.").

Walking into the lab, seeing Bruce and Tony tinkering away, with Natasha in the corner painting her nails with a bowie knife clenched between her teeth, Peter smiled. He'd just won this round. Or maybe he'd leveled up. (He wasn't sure what type of game this was. Were there levels? A point system? Was it going to get harder as the game progressed?)

(The answer was yes.)


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Manners; in which the red and blue boys bake

If Peter was going to play this game well, he decided, than the best plan of action was to not make anyone suspicious. So, the next day, when Bruce invited him to eat with Steve and Black Widow, Peter agreed readily.

Black Widow was already seated when they arrived, typing something lengthy on her phone, but Steve was still in the kitchen cooking.

"What's a-cooking, good-looking?" Peter asked as he pulled out a chair and slid into it.

Black Widow glanced up. "Are you talking to me?" she asked in a scathing tone.

Peter immediately straightened in his seat and gulped. "Uh, no ma'am. Nuh-uh." He pointed over towards where Steve was frying something up on the stove. "No, I was talking to Captain Rogers, uh, Steve."

Bruce took a seat next to Peter and stuck his tongue out at Black Widow. "Lay off those jokes around the kid. He hasn't caught on to your sense of humor yet."

Peter shook his head solemnly. "And I never will, nuh-uh, no way in hell, um, ma'am."

Steve walked in then, carrying four plates which he set down in front of everyone else before serving himself. "Peter, did I hear you call me good looking?"

Peter nodded absent-mindedly, too busy admiring the salmon and asparagus.

"I think it's a common phrase, rhyming cooking and looking," Bruce said in the same serious tone of voice that he used whenever he really, really, wanted to be laughing.

Peter did not trust that tone of voice, no he did not. It was always used before Tony said something hilarious at Peter's expense, or after Peter said something that was about to blow up in his face. He tore his eyes away from the delicious looking food only to look up and see that Steve was flushed a magnificent shade of red.

Peter only barely kept from laughing himself. "Has no one told you you were good looking?" He clucked disappointedly and made little pinching motions in the direction of Steve's cheeks. "Poor boy."

Even Black Widow looked like she was holding back laughter, and since he'd once seen her stare ahead with a completely neutral expression on her face through the entirety of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Peter knew that this was serious business.

Steve opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He gulped, and tried what sounded like it might have been, "I'm sorry," but it came out more like a squeak, and then his mouth snapped shut.

"I lied," Black Widow said suddenly, "I like this one. _I'm_ keeping him." Then she turned abruptly in her seat and stuck out her hand for Peter to shake, which he did hesitantly. "Hello, my name is Natasha, nice to meet you."

"Peter," Peter gasped out, and then finally Bruce couldn't take it anymore and he began laughing hysterically, his hand clamped over his mouth though it did nothing to muffle his mirth. And then Natasha (First name basis with the Widow! Score!) started laughing too, more refined than Bruce but still genuinely happy. And then Steve and Peter looked at each other, saw the confusion and amusement in each other's faces and began laughing at the same time.

Peter clutched at his side as the hilarity rocked through him, and only after a long interval of stop-and-go giggling did the laughter finally die out.

"I love you guys," Peter said, his voice still a little breathier than it should be, and his cheeks smarting from laughing so hard. And then he breathed out a quick sigh and finally tucked into lunch, only to immediately swear and say, "Never mind, screw you guys. I love this food!" He took another bite of the salmon. "Yep, definitely divorcing the Avengers and running away to elope with this fish."

Steve gave a short bark of laughter. "Nope. You are not allowed to divorce us. Uh, I mean, at least _I_ was the one to make the food, so how can you have it without me?"

Peter nodded, like a student would after hearing his teacher spout something deep and philosophical. "You're right. Steve, will you marry me?"

Bruce pointed at Peter's ring finger with his fork. "I think you might already have someone for that."

Peter looked at his engagement ring (ENGAGEMENT RING!) with a moue of fake disgust. "Are you kidding me? He can't cook worth crap! I've got to do all the cooking in the house. I mean, at least I make him do the cleaning up, but still, slaving over a hot stove for a man who can't even boil water?"

He tsked to himself, though that was not necessarily true. Wade could boil water just fine. He was a functioning adult fully capable of working all of the appliances in the kitchen with the same efficiency as he used his Uzi or his hand grenades. It was what he chose to _create_ that had Peter running for the hills. Macaroni and Jellyfish. Calamari and sriracha . Hamburger a la cookie dough ice cream. Really horrifying stuff.

"So you do all the cooking stuff?" Natasha asked, spearing an asparagus stalk and biting into it gracefully. (Can you bite into an asparagus stalk gracefully? How? Peter wanted to know, because he was pretty sure he'd just seen an assassin do it, but was too scared to ask.)

Peter nodded. "Yeah. I don't _really_ mind it though. I like throwing things together and coming back with a delicious and enjoyable meal."

"Same here," Steve said, and then admitted in a more sedate tone of voice, "and it's good for calming me down."

"Yeah," Peter agreed, "And my food isn't half-bad, not as good as Steve's but not bad. My baking though," he whistled, "I have an apple pie that would knock the socks right off of your feet, screw the shoes."

Steve raised his eyebrows, and his eyes shone with something that resembled competitive gleam. "Oh yeah? Well I'll have you know that _I_ can make a pretty mean apple pie myself. And my recipe uses all fresh ingredients. None of that pre-made pie-crust, or apple filling from a can that seem so popular nowadays."

Peter swallowed the piece of salmon in his mouth and set down his fork on the table with a quiet _chink_ of metal on metal before crossing his arms over his chest. "I am offended, my good Captain. I'll have you know that my apple pie was taught to me by my Aunt May, the dearest of women, and a stickler for making pastries from scratch. I have never even _touched_ a pre-made pie crust. Canned apple filling? Hah! Only good for children and the weak!" Peter narrowed his eyes. "In fact, during apple season, we drive upstate to Warwick to pick our own damn apples to use as filing. What do you think of _them_ apples?"

"I think that, yeah, fresh apples are important, but I've got something you don't have, Mr. Parker. I've got history on my side. I'm sure your apple pie is alright, but was it made to help keep you warm when the depression started to seep into your bones? Make you smile when all around you are sad, dirty faces?"

Peter stuck up his nose and gave a little sniff. "Let's hear it then, this all-american, soul-warming, Captain-America-approved apple pie." Steve paused a moment to think, but Peter didn't let him. "What? You think maybe I'm right? Were you bluffing, Mr. High-and-mighty? Huh?"

Steve set his shoulders and straightened his spine and started detailing how the famous pie was made. Yeah, yeah, slice the apples thin, add cinnamon crumble top, it was all stuff that sounded nothing more than ordinary to Peter, but the more Steve talked the more it sounded both absolutely scrumptious and also really, really, familiar. By the end of Steve's spiel, Bruce looked like his mouth was watering, Natasha was making really subtle grabby motions with her hands, and Peter was sitting with his mouth gaping open.

Steve smirked at Peter's dumbfounded expression. "Not feeling so hot now, huh, kid."

"That's _my_ recipe!" Peter exclaimed, and yes, he could admit in his own head that he sounded like a petulant child who had just lost a contest, but that was _his_ recipe, the one Aunt May had taught him and made for him a bazillion times.

Bruce actually looked genuinely disappointed in Peter when he said, "Now Peter, just because you can't trump Steve doesn't mean you have to go and be such a sore loser."

Peter gave the scientist an unimpressed look. "But it _is_ my recipe, or my Aunt May's recipe." Peter rounded on Steve who was giving his own unimpressed look, but Peter was not about to be waylaid about this. He'd been helping his aunt make that recipe since he was seven, and had been eating it for much longer, he knew what he was talking about.

Natasha seemed to agree with him, surprisingly (and suspiciously) enough, and said, "Well can you prove it?"

Peter paused, thinking. It wasn't like he could just call up Aunt May. They might think she'd side with him over anything just 'cause she was his aunt (which she would totally not do at all. Help him out? Yes. Lie for him? No sir-ee!). And it wasn't like he could describe something else about the pie, Steve had gone into enough details. And it _was_ the same pie. The directions were the same, and Steve had sounded like he was reciting them verbatim from the same scrap of paper that Aunt May had tucked away in her old cook book, pressed between the unused pages detailing how to make jellied pork and tomato soup spice cake. Not like that scrap had been seen in years. Aunt May had never needed it when she made the pie, and had only shown it to Peter the few times he'd helped before he too had memorized it. It was one of those family trade secret things. In fact it hadn't even been touched since before Peter hit double digits. It was really impressive that Steve knew it all, he'd even left out the bit about the crumble top that Aunt May had always warned against telling anyone about. She'd said, yes, you can try to impress a girl or a next door neighbor with the pie, even write down for them the recipe, but leave out that extra cinnamon/vanilla/nutmeg crumble top because that's what keeps them coming back for more. And just like Aunt May had always told Peter, Steve had left out that extra step.

Peter's head shot up.

"I've got it."

Steve quirked an eyebrow. "Really now?"

Peter nodded and rose from the table. Yes, he could prove that the pie was his, but the secret was still a secret. He hunched over Steve's shoulder (and Steve tensed subconsciously) and whispered in his ear the step he'd left out. And then because Peter could be a melodramatic bastard when he wanted, he calmly sat back in his seat and smiled innocently at the people around him.

"Verdict?" Natasha asked.

Steve gulped and gave Peter a searching look. "He's right. He knows it."

"What just happened?" Bruce asked.

Steve ignored his question to ask his own. "Peter, how could you possibly know that recipe?"

Peter shrugged. "My Aunt always said it was a family secret. She learned it from her mom who learned it from a family friend who learned it from her mom. Of course that was back when Aunt May was growing up and she lived in Brooklyn back then."

"Who lived in Brooklyn?" came a voice from the hall and in walked Tony Stark carrying a broken sewing machine and a plate of orange jello.

"What are you—?" Bruce started to ask, pointing at the plate and the machine before cutting himself off and saying, "You know what? I don't want to know."

"My Aunt May grew up in Brooklyn, her parents lived there, and their parents, for generations."

Tony pointed at Steve with his chin. "Kind of like Capsicle here, except Cap spent a lot of those generations in ice."

Steve rolled his eyes at Tony. "What you're trying to say is I'm old as dirt."

"Yes!" Tony exclaims, and almost dropped the jello. "That's what I've been trying to say for forever! You're a dinosaur, man! A fossil!"

Steve turned to Peter, ignoring the mechanically inclined man-child. "Maybe your family got it from my family."

"Or your family got it from mine."

Steve nodded, and a note of exasperation leaked out as he said, "Yes. Either way."

Tony trudged over and slammed both the sewing machine and the plate of jello down on a section of unused table. "Well enough about whatever you were talking about, who wants to try some of this very safe and not at all experimental jello?"

"Bye," Natasha said and ran away so quickly that Peter could barely hear her as she dashed out the door.

"See you guys later," Steve said, only fractionally slower than Natasha and also made a run for it.

"Gotta jet!" Bruce exclaimed, looking at where a watch would be sitting on his wrist if he had been wearing one.

"Who says that anymore?" Tony exclaimed at Bruce's back as Peter tried to subtly sneak away. "What about you, Pete? Do you want some dessert?" He gestured at the ominous fluorescent orange and Peter shook his head violently.

"No, uh, no thanks. Some other time, maybe. I've got to, ah, get back to work. See you later Tony?" And before Tony could answer, Peter too was out the door.

Tony sighed and sat himself in the chair in front of the sewing machine. "Oh well," he said slowly, "more for me I guess," and popped a chunk of jello into his mouth.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Adoption; in which Peter attends a Family Luncheon

Peter's next move was to eat a really delicious hot dog with Wade at lunch the next day.

It was good strategy, by Peter's way of thinking, because it killed three-ish birds with one hot dog, and that was good math (and Peter was a Maths and Science sort of guy, so you could trust him on that). The three-ish birds were: 1) he got to eat lunch, always a plus, 2) he got to see Wade and kiss him a little and look into his eyes and discuss what dinosaurs would _actually_ have looked like because a new article came out saying that bright feathers were probably a thing and Wade really liked that idea (and so did Peter, but shhhhhh, because he liked playing devil's advocate to make Wade ramble faster), and 3) Peter earned more points.

Cause this was definitely a game.

And he was _winning!_

The –ish was because Peter still wasn't sure what sort of game this was, and if there even _was_ a points system, or if it was just see-how-long-you-can-last, or if he could get to the next level.

But it didn't matter because Peter is still _winning_ , and he even got back to work on time, and after a short patrol as Spidey where absolutely nothing happened (what the fuck is wrong with this town? Villains used to be so reliable...), Peter could go back home and curl into Wade on the couch and nibble on chips while he tried to beat the shit out of his boyfriend in Tekken.

He lost.

392 times in a row.

That was ok.

And Peter was ok. More than ok, he was happy.

And it was ok if he wasn't winning all of the games.

But the next day, when Peter served his court-ordered stint with the Avengers for lunch, he thought that maybe he hadn't read all of the rules for this game after all. When Bruce and Peter and Tony (too. It's kind of a nice surprise because more often than not, Tony just completely forgot to stop to eat, or sleep, or do anything but work crazy hours) stepped off the elevator and into the Avenger's common room floor, there, sitting at the table between super spy Natasha Romanoff and super spy Clint Barton was none other than Wade Wilson, mercenary and boyfriend extraordinaire.

The three standing paused and stared at the three sitting and Peter blinked.

Wade did this weird arm waggle thing that he always did when what he wanted to do was jump up and scamper about and possibly kiss the living daylights out of Peter, but he was being forcibly held to his seat by either really good ropes or the glare of a Russian ex-assassin, and said, "Hola, mis tres amigos. Estoy caliente."

Bruce shuddered, and Peter didn't know if that meant he was the only one who understood Spanish or if the others were just better at remaining completely neutral in the face of all things pertaining to both this mercenary and to sex. Peter only knew that Wade had just said he was horny because he said it often enough in the comfort of their own home. And, all over the city, actually. Everywhere and whenever he wanted.

Clint cleared his throat a little self-consciously and said, "We hope you don't mind. Wade is, reluctantly, one of us now, and leaving him out of Avengers lunches was starting to seem a little rude."

Natasha looked like she wouldn't mind continuing to be a little rude.

Peter gave Clint a grateful smile, because it was nice that they were trying to accept Wade. It had made Peter feel kind of weird when he'd realized that these guys were spending more time with him, a cocky intern half their age, than their own teammate, no matter what his status was.

He'd talked to Wade about it, but Wade didn't seem to mind at all. "You're Spiderman! Of course they're going to love your more." He hadn't sounded upset at all, even a bit proud of Peter's "accomplishment." The accomplishment being, of course, that he was a good guy superhero, and that he had been for five-ish years.

Peter had shaken his head. "They don't know that though. To them, I'm just some kid who does science stuff with Tony and Bruce."

Wade shrugged. "Babe, it's fine. I see them a lot too. More than you do. Don't feel bad about taking away my fun times with them because frankly, I see them, it seems all the fucking hours of the day and night. Honestly, Pookie."

But now that they were all about to eat together, even if Wade was practically being held prisoner on the opposite side of the table, Peter could feel a knot of guilt that he hadn't even realized had been pressing into his stomach loosen.

Peter pulled out a chair even as Bruce and Tony hesitated, and sprawled himself comfortably at the table. "So, what's for lunch today?"

Tony jostled Peter's shoulder playfully as he took a seat next to him. "It's your turn, bozo."

Peter straightened a little. "My turn?" He eyed the kitchen and tried to think up something he could make on such short notice.

Natasha didn't roll her eyes, but her head did this little twist thing that made her hair flip and gave the distinct impression that she was rolling her eyes when she wasn't. (Peter had to learn how to do that!) "Jesus, kid, calm yourself. Stark is just pulling your leg. Thor will be back with Chinese take-out in a few minutes."

Wade whistled. "You trusted demi-god to get the food? He's got no grasp of societal anything! What if he winds up in an arranged marriage to the Dalai Lama or something! That's not something you can back out from."

Bruce gave this big frown that reminded Peter almost hysterically of a stuffed toy bear he'd had as a child. "Thor is perfectly capable of getting us lunch, Deadpool. He isn't incompetent."

"Unlike some people," Tony muttered beneath his breath, and Peter wouldn't have caught it except for his extra hearing abilities.

Peter's shoulders straightened, because no, they were not going to pick on his boyfriend without him standing up for Wade. "I think W-Deadpool was just joking. Weren't you?" He gave a tiny nod to Wade and Wade relaxed just a fraction.

"Oh, yeah, totally. I love Mr. Thunder! He's the greatest."

"See?" Peter said, and looked into the grumpy face of Tony.

Wade waggled his eyebrows from beneath his mask, and said in his most come-hither-to-my-bed-chamber-and-bring-the-doritos voice, "Thank you Pete, I don't know what I would have done without you."

Peter didn't even blush, because this was nothing more than the usual. "No prob."

"I regret this," Natasha moaned, and Peter at least had to give her props for not trying to hide her utter annoyance with his boyfriend's existence.

(not an unusual state to be in)

Then one of the windows flew open, answering two of Peter's questions, the first being if any of the windows could be opened in order to gain entry or exit from the building (which was a resounding yes), and the second being when would the food arrive (now).

Thor landed on the marble floor with a great crash of thunder and dropped two brown paper sacks onto the table. "I have arrived with the preparations for the feast."

"Huzzah!" Wade belted out from his seat and tried to stand, but a glare from Natasha had him lowering himself back into his chair.

Peter didn't miss the glint of amusement in Thor's eyes however as he stalked to the kitchen to get plates.

Peter took a look in the bags and whistled. "You sure did get a lot of food."

Thor set the plates down and Natasha began unloading one of the bags, motioning that Peter should do the same. It was Tony who spoke. "Lot of mouths to feed, lot of demi-gods and super humans to nourish." He shrugged.

"So Steve is coming too?" And just then the elevator dinged and Steve walked out.

"I'm sorry about being so late, guys. Got caught up talking to Sam."

"Why didn't you invite him?" Asked Natasha as she opened a carton of sesame chicken and dumped most of it onto her plate.

Steve shrugged. "I did, but he had plans. Personally, I think he has a date."

"Oh, do tell!" Tony commanded in the worst falsetto Peter had ever heard.

"Leave the poor boy alone, Martha," Peter demanded, trying to sound like an old man and probably failing horribly, "It is none of your business whether young Samuel wants to take someone out or not." He puffed on an imaginary pipe.

"But Papa!" Wade exclaimed in his own, much more practiced, falsetto, and tilted his head onto his folded hands in much the same way a cartoon damsel would. "I wanted Samuel to ask _me_ on a date."

Peter shook his head and mimed relighting his pipe. "What is done is done, dear. Samuel obviously found someone who is more attractive, funnier, and better in bed, Maribel."

Wade gasped melodramatically and swooned, first towards Natasha, but he thought better of it, and found himself lounging on Clint, waving a hand in front of his face and saying, "Well I do believe I've got the vapors." Clint was not happy about being used as a fainting couch, and jabbed Wade in the side with a chopstick, which made the masked man yelp and jump back into his own seat.

"Bravo!" Bruce said mockingly and clapped. Peter and Wade bowed in sync, and then Peter pulled at Tony's collar so that he was bowing too.

Steve Sat between Bruce and Clint, and Thor between Tony and Natasha, and then there was a short lull in the conversation as everyone's arms flurried out to serve food and pass out plates and utensils.

Then Peter was settled in with a plate of lo mein and a pair of chopsticks and he relaxed into a sprawl in his seat once more. Tony tried to reach across Peter to snag a spring roll off of Bruce's plate, but Thor on the other side of Tony pulled him back with a tug on his sleeve."This is very family," Wade said around a mouthful of broccoli and beef. His mask was pulled up to his nose, and he looked a little tense around the shoulders, but he wasn't actively trying to hide the scars on the bottom half of his face, and that made Peter smile a little. He was starting to trust more, and that was good, especially around his teammates.

On the other hand, if anyone even dared to _mention_ his scars or newly shown trust, Peter would slap them so hard their teeth would fall out.

"Yeah?" Tony asked, and raised an eyebrow.

Wade nodded emphatically. "Look at us. The Avengers. All eating lunch together. One big family."

Peter swallowed before asking, "Well what does that make me? The awkward distant relative?"

"Don't worry Baby-boy, I haven't forgotten you."

"Maybe you should," Natasha muttered.

"No, I want to hear this," Steve said, "because I will not tolerate anything mean, do you hear me? You promised to be on your best behavior."

"This _is_ his best behavior," Clint said with a little smirk, but then he jostled Wade good-naturedly and Peter relaxed farther into his seat. At least Hawkeye was being nice to Wade, even if that niceness translated into teasing.

"No I got it!" Wade exclaimed, "We are all one big family, correcto-mundo? 'Cause we're all superheroes."

"Peter doesn't _have_ any super powers," Bruce explained slowly, as if to a small, slightly annoying child.

"Exactly! That's why he's the awkward cousin."

Thor looked between Bruce and Wade. "Have we all become kin? Are we more, now, than mere blood brothers of battle, but brothers and sisters in actual blood?"

"It's an analogy," Natasha explained to Thor, at the same time that Wade continued, "A really _sexy_ cousin."

"Ew!" Clint said, and flicked a piece of carrot at Wade's face.

Peter shook his head sagely, and said "No kissing cousins."

Bruce shuddered, and Tony tried once more to snag a spring roll from his plate. This time he succeeded.

Natasha gave Wade a dirty look, but continued to speak to Thor. "He means that we are all close as if we were family. Still blood brothers."

"Ah good," the Norse god exclaimed, a smile settling onto his face, "I have enough troubles within my kin, I would hate to add that to anyone else's shoulders."

"YOU ARE DISOWNED!" Wade yelled, jumping to his feet and pointing his chopsticks at Peter. And then he simpered, "Can we kiss now?"

"No!" Steve said in his Captain America voice and Wade slumped back into his seat.

"But, Daaaad!" Peter whined, and when Steve shot him a shocked look, Peter gave him his very best unimpressed eyebrow-raise.

Then he mentally berated himself, because he wanted to win this game fair and square, and that meant not giving the enemy any hints.

But it all worked out fine, because Tony had taken his words as jest and said, "I thought you were his cousin? How can you be our cousin, and then have Steve be your dad?"

Peter scratched his head. "I thought I was just W—Deadpool's cousin? I figured Natasha and Clint were his parents, because, well," he gestured towards where Natasha and Clint were effectively boxing Wade in and watching his every move, just like real parents taking care of a toddler. "And then I figured, if Wade got cool spy parents, I should get to keep Steve as _my_ father." He paused a moment, and then looked over at Bruce with a pondering look on his face. "You can be my mother if you want, Bruce."

Bruce shrugged good-naturedly. "Sure."

"What does that make _me_?" Tony said, and then snorted. "Your kooky Uncle or something?"

Peter's flinch was so minute that no one could have noticed it, but then Wade was talking, overruling Tony, and Peter couldn't help but smile at his awesome boyfriend. Wade knew that the ache over Uncle Ben's death was still fresh, even all of these years later, and he was kind of protective over Peter.

"More like crazy, mad scientist grandpa if you ask me."

Tony gawked at the mercenary. "I'm not old enough to be a grandpa! If anything it should be Capsicle over there. He's ninety plus!"

"The ice doesn't count!" Steve said in a very affronted tone, and when Thor gave him a patronizing smile, Steve responded by looking away and huffing.

But Tony was warming up to the subject, and he rubbed his hands together, forgetting about the food still left on his plate. "No, Steve can be Grandpa Cap, and he can ramble to young Peter all about when he fought the Nazis back in his hay-day. And I can be dear old dad. Hey, I can teach you anything you need to know Peter, right? I'd be a much better dad! We share mechanics! And science! And Brucie-bear would much rather be married to little ol' me than goody two shoes over there, right dear?"

Bruce looked at Tony and slowly bit down on the last spring roll on his plate.

Tony cleared his throat. "Ok then."

"I do not _ramble_ ," Steve said, somehow managing to sound both menacing and as if he was trying to convince himself of that face.

"Where does that leave me, comrades?" Thor asked with a hint of amusement, and Peter was suddenly reminded that Thor was a practically immortal god who had probably lived for hundreds if not thousands of years.

Wade's head whipped over to where Thor was calmly devouring three whole containers of kung pao chicken. "I claim him! Thor can be my brother, can't you oh blond and mysterious one?"

Thor gave him a look that Peter chose to interpret as 'I already have one homicidal, murderous brother, that is enough,' but then he smiled softly and said, "I would be most honored to call you brother, oh Water of Death."

Peter snorted at the nickname, but Wade fucking beamed at Thor like he'd hung the moon. Peter sent out a silent thanks, because he knew how much it meant to Wade that the Avengers like him.

Things kind of settled down then, because Wade was too ecstatic about what Thor had said that for once he actually shut up. Well, that wasn't quite true, but his murmurs and whatever he was saying to the voices in his head was said so quietly that even Peter couldn't make out what he was saying, but his smile didn't diminish.

By the time the end of lunch hour rolled around and Peter returned to work, he wasn't sure if this lunch counted as him leveling up, or just completing a side quest, but he was happy either way.

Wade was getting included in things, _and_ he'd get to hang out with his fiancé more often.

This belief was upheld when the next day at lunch Wade was in attendance, even when it was just the two of them, Natasha and Pepper. Natasha, it turns out, could make a mean Potato salad, and Peter had brought in sloppy joes, so lunch itself was great, and so was the company.

And now Peter couldn't wait to get to lunch every day, because the Avengers were just so nice to be around, and Wade was right, it _was_ like a big family, everyone was so comfortable around each other, even Wade and Peter who were fairly new additions to the family.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Mistaken Identity; in which Peter finally gets the whole picture

Peter could not have been happier, having found this group of people who genuinely seemed to like him, him as nerdy Peter Parker, and also accepted Wade. And the only awkward moment was when, sometime in the next week, Bruce asked why Peter wasn't eating lunch with his fiancé anymore.

Peter had shrugged. "I have alone time with him after work."

Bruce had given him this searching look, but Peter didn't know what else he could say without giving the whole game away, and he couldn't do that, he was _wining_.

The next few days when Peter caught Bruce scrutinizing Peter's interactions with Wade it gave Peter the funniest feeling in his stomach, a feeling he couldn't really recognize until that night found him curled into Wade's side, smashing the mercenary ruthlessly in Super Smash Brothers.

The realization was so startling that Peter missed a hit from Kirby of all people (or not-people) and he dropped off a floating rock bridge, costing him a life.

"The fuck, Petey-pie?" Wade said as he paused the game, but then when he looked down and saw that Peter was openly gaping, looking into the middle distance, his tone became more concerned. "What's up, Pete?"

"They think I'm flirting with you!" Peter gasped out.

Wade didn't say anything for a moment, probably hoping that Peter would explain. When Peter did no such thing, Wade spoke. "Yeeeaaaah?" He dragged the word out, as if hoping that Peter really would explain what he was on about, but still Peter said nothing. "You do though. You flirt with me. I flirt with you. It isn't a big deal, 'cause, I don't know if you remember, but we are not only dating, but engaged."

Peter couldn't help the snort of almost hysterical laughter that shot out of him. "Yeah, but I mean, the Avengers. They think I'm flirting with Deadpool."

Wade nodded slowly, "Yeah. I'm still not seeing the problem here."

Peter rolled his eyes. "The Avengers, think I'm flirting with Deadpool. They see us flirting, and they think that I like Deadpool. _Like_ like Deadpool."

"I'm sorry, Petey, you're gonna hafta be me more explicit. I honestly don't know what you're rattling on about."

"Ugh!" Peter shot to his feet and started pacing across the room.

"Pete! Just say it slowly for me, ok? I'm not that smart."

Peter paused and his head whipped around. He finally examined his boyfriend, and saw that Wade really looked frustrated. He was squeezing the controller he still held in his hands and was biting his lips, pulling at the soft red skin with his teeth, avoiding eye contact, and Peter almost winced.

Wade rubbed his face. "Spell it out for me?"

Peter gave a self-deprecating smile and moved over to sit in Wade's lap. He kissed Wade's head and skimmed a finger over a puckered scar that ran straight from his right temple down to the corner of his chin. "You're plenty smart. I'm sorry, I'm not making much sense."

Wade's lips spread into an indulgent smile, and Peter kissed the corner of Wade's mouth. Then he sat farther away from Wade, while still lounging in his lap, to better look at him. Wade looked gorgeous, with that expression of Peter-get-on-with-it mixed with Peter-I-Love-YOU.

"Ok, let me try again. The Avengers, or at least Steve and Bruce, and maybe Natasha (I can never tell with her) know that you and me flirt heavily. I'm afraid to say that we've been making it pretty obvious." Wade nodded because, yes, they had been. "They aren't dumb, they must see how much I love you. Because I do love you. Idiot."

Wade nodded.

"Ok, well, so to them, Peter Parker, normal dorky intern, is flirting with Deadpool, Merc with a Mouth, dangerous guy."

"So? We _are_ dating." Wade stuck out his lower lip in a pout.

Peter rolled his eyes. "But _they_ don't know that."

Wade's eyes widened. "Oooohhh." Then he gave a very very lewd smile and waggled his eyebrows. "So they're worried that mean old mercenary is going to corrupt wittle baby intern Parker?"

Peter gave a huff but nodded, dimpling a smile. "Yes, but there's more."

"What more could there be? Isn't that drama enough?"

Peter nodded exuberantly."Yes! Exactly! It's already enough drama as it is, but! They _also_ know that I'm engaged."

"Really?"

Peter gave his fiancé an exasperated look. "Duh!"

"How'd they find out?"

Peter rolled his eyes and held out his left hand where his engagement ring (ENGAGEMENT RING!) glinted even in the semi darkness of their apartment.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Plus, and I don't know if you remember this, but I'm kind of really really in love with you, and I also kind of talk about you all the freaking time." Wade's eyes were impossibly wide, Peter couldn't help but bump noses with the guy. "I love you, dude. We're like, getting married or whatever. The day after you proposed I honestly couldn't stop talking about you. All day. Ask Tony. He was begging Dummy to knock him out so he wouldn't have to listen to me wax poetic about my boyfriend anymore."

"I could kill him? If you want? For disrespecting you?" Wade sounded kind of not all there, as if he was too busy processing what Peter had said to concentrate on his words.

"No, babe, it's fine. He was joking."

"Oh," Wade said weakly, "good."

Peter rolled his eyes, and then suctioned his mouth around Wade's which did what Peter wanted and brought Wade right back into the present. Quickly. And with tongue.

Peter pulled away when he decided that he really couldn't go any longer without oxygen, and that left time for Wade to digest everything that Peter had been saying, and then a new glint entered his eyes. "Wait, so not only do they see you flirting with lil' ol' me, but they also know you've got a boyfriend?"

Peter nodded, seeing that Wade was getting it. "Who they think is not you. And today Bruce asked me why I don't go out to lunch with my fiancé anymore." He huffed. "I mean, from their point of view, adding two and two together means—"

"They think you're cheating on me with me!" Wade giggled hysterically and wrapped his hands around Peter's waist.

Peter snorted. "Yeah. They think I'm cheating on my fiancé with my fiancé." He swallowed and gave a small grimace. "How is this even my life?"

"Maybe it _isn't_ your life." Wade said cryptically, and then, "But they haven't confronted you about it yet?"

Peter shook his head.

"Weird." Wade intoned, and then shrugged flippantly. "It'll work itself out."

Peter rolled his eyes, but cuddled in closer to Wade. "Sure."

"Now are we going to get back to this game or what?"

Peter looked at the clock hanging crookedly on the wall above the entrance to the kitchen. "It's getting pretty late, actually."

"You thinking about going on patrol?"

Peter nodded. "Wanna come?"

Wade jumped to his feet, jostling Peter onto the ground, and rushed around gathering the various parts of his costume (weapons to spandex) that were strewn across the living room. "Of course,

Peter dressed quickly in their bedroom, grabbing his suit and web shooters from out of the box stuffed in the back of the underwear drawer of his dresser, and by the time he was back in the living room, Wade was dressed and ready to go, and also juggling a glock, an uzi, and a bowie knife in the air.

"Sexy," Peter said drily, and Wade gave Peter a giant grin from behind his mask before catching the three items and reholstering them in their assigned positions.

Peter let Wade climb onto his back, spider-monkey style (Thank you, twilight movie, for using that term. Now it's stuck here forever.) and then opened the window of their apartment.

"Ready?"

Wade tightened his grip on Peter's torso and licked a long stripe down the back of Peter's spandex-covered neck, which made the younger man shudder. "For anything, hunny-bun, and always for you."

Peter jumped.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Reveal; in which the boyfriends never get to the pizza

The first hint that the day was going to be a weird one was that when Peter first walked into the lab, it was empty. This hardly ever happened. Tony usually greeted him with an absent minded wave, or most notably, once with a wrench thrown at his head (an accident, hopefully) and Bruce might have been at his desk, typing away at his computer with one hand while the other clutched possessively at a mug of tea. Yes, the two Avengers were sometimes absent, but even then Clint or Steve would show up to keep him company. Today everything was silent.

"Jarvis?" Peter asked, addressing the security camera in the corner of the ceiling.

It was not nearly as weird learning to interact with the sentient artificial intelligence as he'd thought it might be. Jarvis was a creation of Tony's just like Dummy or You, only bodiless and much, much smarter (than Peter). It was like talking to a secret man in the wiring, which it actually was. Jarvis was just a secret man in the wiring. Not really weird considering that Peter had once fought a giant lizard-man, and another guy made entirely of electricity, and a guy with four metal arms attached to his torso, or a man who's favorite style was to dress all in green armor and ride around on a hovering metal surfboard-thing. No, Jarvis was not the weirdest person Peter had met, but he was one of the nicest. Plus, Jarvis actually liked him.

"Yes, Mr. Parker?" came the cool British tones of the AI.

"Where is everybody?"

"Sir and the Avengers were called away last night to DC. There was an emergency."

Peter frowned. He distinctly remembered sleeping with Wade last night, and then waking up next to him, and then kissing him before heading off to work. Wade was _definitely_ not in DC.

"But, W—uh Deadpool is still here." For a brief moment Peter panicked, thinking that he had just given himself away, because how was Peter-the-innocent-intern supposed to know where Deadpool was. But before he could freak out too much, Jarvis was talking again.

"No. Mr. Deadpool was left behind to, quoting Sir, 'Babysit New York and my fucking house.' The rest of the Avengers are scheduled to return sometime tonight."

Peter blinked at the camera and then gave it a wide grin. He liked Jarvis's sense of humor. Sue him. (No don't, he had no money!)

"Thanks, Jarvis."

"Anytime, Mr. Parker."

Peter laughed and fished out his phone. " _I hear you and me are alone in the tower today. Want to meet up for romantic, candle-lit lunch date?_ " he sent to Wade in a text.

" _Oh yes, hunny-bun! And maybe…office sexy time?_ "

" _Definitely not._ "

" _:P I hate you. I'll order pizza._ "

Peter smiled at the screen of his phone. He almost texted Wade saying that he was surprised Wade didn't insist he play hookie all day, but then he realized that Wade would take that as permission to come annoy Peter until he agreed to play hookie all day, and he actually _did_ have work to do. Instead he sent a heart emoticon and stuffed his phone back into his pocket.

If he checked the time more often than he normally did, that was between Peter and Jarvis.

A few minutes before lunch Wade stumbled through the doors of the lab, arms piled high with seven pizza boxes and two two-liters of orange soda. "Peter-baby. Ready for a candle lit dinner—"

"Lunch."

"—of fire and sexiness? And pizza?"

There was a pause before Peter asked, "Fire?"

Wade raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? Cause, I set candles up? Candle lit dinner/lunch? Why have candles if there isn't going to be immense amounts of fire involved. C'mon Pete! Fire! Arson! The Flames of Hell!"

Peter powered off his computer and grabbed the two-liters from Wade before giving his boyfriend a peck on the lips and leading him to the elevator.

"Hey, I know the others are off doing other things," Peter said, as the elevator doors slid open and they stepped through, "does that mean that we can't use the Avengers area?"

Wade scowled magnificently. "I'm an Avenger, aren't I? Let's do it! J-rod'll let us in, won't you, sky-demon?"

Jarvis's voice, when it came through the speakers in the metal room, held both a hint of amusement and of irritation. "Yes sir. Since both you and Mr. Parker have been added to list of persons allowed access to the Avenger's rooms, I would have no reason to ban you from those rooms."

Peter looked down at the two-liters. "Thanks, Jarvis."

"Anytime, Mr. Parker," and talking to Peter, Jarvis sounded a lot more comfortable.

The doors opened and Peter walked into the dining room, only to see that the dining room table was covered in candles, tea-lights to those thick ones in glass jars to the thin candelabra ones. The windows were darkened and the flickering candles lit the room in cozy, homey tones. Peter huffed out a gust of laughter and dropped the two-liters onto an empty chair.

"I see that you weren't joking about the fire thing. Let's not turn to arson, shall we? I like my job here."

Wade let go of the pizzas and the seven boxes scattered across the floor. Wade shoved his mask off of his face, threw it unceremoniously against the far wall, and with one step, Peter was in Wade's arms and his mouth was occupied with a very skilled tongue that was thoroughly trying to map out every inch of it. Peter hummed and his eyes fluttered closed.

Wade's arms wrapped around his torso and squeezed him close, and Peter pressed closely into his side, trailing his hands up the sides of Wade's chest, trying to get his fingers under the seams of the spandex suit.

When Peter pushed at Wade's chest to break their kiss, he couldn't help but smile up into his fiancé's face, even as his chest heaved from trying to catch his breath.

"Don't you have a room here or something?" Peter asked, still panting slightly.

Wade nuzzled Peter's neck, and when he spoke his breath puffed across the almost invisible hairs at the nape of Peter's neck, making him shiver. "Of course I do, Petey. Do you want to…" there was a pause where Peter could picture Wade waggling his eyebrows, "check it out?"

Peter laughed and broke away. "Ok, let's just put the food in the fridge—"

Wade whined and dragged Peter back into the cage of Wade's arms.

"We don't want it to go bad, do we?"

"I'll buy more."

Peter rolled his eyes, but when Wade started making his way back towards the elevator, he didn't try and stop him. The elevator doors opened without them having to summon it, and Peter found himself pressed against the cold metal of the elevator walls, with Wade's tongue intent, once more, on exploring Peter's mouth. There was a bar digging uncomfortably into Peter's back, and the elevator was moving without anyone having said anything to Jarvis or having pressed any buttons, but Peter honestly couldn't give a damn.

When the elevator doors opened with a ding, Peter's lips felt raw and Wade's face was flushed. Wade led them to the left and through a wooden door into a little suite that Peter couldn't help but examine. It was beautiful, if a little impersonal. The kitchen was part dining room, with a small table and two chairs set up next to a window. The living room had a thick rug and a big TV with a ps2 set up, of all things. Giant glass windows, like in the Avengers communal room, let in light, which gave the darkly colored room a lighter, airier feel than it probably would feel at night. There was no coffee table, but there was a couch and an armchair made of a material that looked comfortable, but which Peter didn't really have time to examine, because Wade pulled Peter into the master bedroom and slammed the door closed behind them.

Peter honestly didn't look at anything at all then, because Wade had pushed him onto the king-sized bed, and had suctioned his mouth around a particularly sensitive circle of neck which had Peter's toes twitching, and his hands fluttering around the bed, trying to grab onto a piece of Wade, any piece. He was failing pretty spectacularly at that too, because every time he thought he had a grip on a part of Wade, Peter's hand just slipped right off since he was mostly still wearing his spandex suit. And then Wade would wiggle around on top of Peter, finding a better place to leave a hickey.

Peter was feeling pretty good, and he had the uncomfortable feeling that he was probably saying some pretty ridiculous things that he just could not keep track of (his mouth had a life of its own under normal circumstances, right now it was possibly an alien creature, a sentient and highly intelligent life form foreign to this world, fully capable of making its own decisions and uncaring of the consequences it would have on poor Peter). He had somehow got a leg hooked up over Wade's hip and had one hand gripping the back of Wade's neck without being able to even think about reigning in his Spidey-strength, and so it was probably good that it was Wade, who could take anything and still come out the other end of it with something witty to say or do. Wade's witty action in this event was to pull at the lobe of Peter's ear gently with his teeth, and Peter gasped and tried to force Wade's face up so Peter could meet Wade's mouth with his own, when the door to the bedroom slammed open with a gigantic force and in walked the Avengers, still dressed in their singed, and slightly smoking in some cases, fighting outfits.

"What is going on?" Steve demanded, and marched to the end of the bed. "We came home to find pizza scattered everywhere and Deadpool's mask lying on the floor. We thought something might have happened and came looking. This is not what I expected to find." Wade pulled his lips from Peter's jugular reluctantly and Peter blinked a few times, trying to bring reality back into focus. "I repeat," Steve said, his voice rising, "what is going on?"

Wade eyed the brightly colored super hero, gave one last lick to Peter's neck and then sat up with a sigh. He looked at Peter, who had an adorable furrow in his brow, obviously thinking of how to react to this, and then back at Captain America, who had that stern look to his face that he always got when Wade was involved in something (usually something he shouldn't have done, but really that was up for debate, since Captain America seemed to disapprove of everything Wade did). Then he looked at Iron Man, who was standing next to Captain America, his face mask up and his hands on his hips. "Me and Petey here were about to get it on, actually, so if you could just…" he made shooing motions with his hand towards the door, and when they didn't move, he lowered his head once more to Peter's neck.

It was Natasha's voice that brought Peter completely out of his head, and Wade completely off of Peter. "Deadpool. If I find that you've done anything to Peter to lure him into bed with you, you'll not have anything to use your healing factor _on_."

Peter blinked and sat up completely. "Can we not right now?"

The heroes moved further into the room, and Peter could finally see Bruce, the only one who looked concerned. This was possibly because the others had better masks than him, and hopefully not because he was the only one who cared.

Thor looked confused, but only as if he were missing part of a puzzle, not like he thought Wade was a pedophile/murderer, or Peter was brainwashed or something. (Not that he could have been a pedophile, Peter was 22, thank you.)

"Peter!" Steve intoned, and his eyes flickered between Peter and Wade, suspicion and confusion coloring his tone.

Behind him, Peter could barely see Clint leaning against the wall by the door, his arms crossed over his chest, and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Peter decided to ignore Clint for the time being because he didn't think he was capable of handling all of the different emotions in front of him, so he stuck to the ones he understood.

Peter crossed his arms over his chest and said, "No. I'm so done with this."

Wade nodded absent-mindedly and tried to back into Peter's personal space.

"Don't!" Natasha growled, and Wade reluctantly backed away again.

Peter should have been embarrassed, he knew that. Usually if someone, this many someones, and someones too who he respected and worked with had found him in such a compromising situation, he would have been blushing redder than a cherry tomato. But now he was just over all of this. He had been _winning_ this game, he'd thought he had the upper hand, but now he was about to get _criticized_ , and _lectured_ about trying to get up to some hanky panky with the guy whose ring he currently had wrapped about his left ring finger, so…

Yeah, annoyed was stating it lightly.

"Peter?" Bruce asked, sounding both confused, and almost personally offended. It was the same voice Aunt May had used when Peter had come home in sixth grade with a note from his earth science teach saying that she had caught Peter smuggling home electron microscopes in his back pack. Peter hadn't been able to meet Aunt May's eyes, and had stuttered all the way through his explanation that he was going to give them back, he just needed to study the dander on the cats that their next door neighbor let roam the neighborhood because they were acting weird and Peter thought there might be chiggers in their fur.

This time, Peter was not ashamed, just, you know, irritated. "Yeah?" Peter sighed.

Bruce flinched back and Peter immediately felt bad because Bruce was just trying to be helpful. He didn't know that Peter had nothing to be ashamed of. And Peter had to give Bruce props because he continued on. "Peter, don't you have a fiancé? Why are you doing this?"

Tony clucked in faux-pride. "Sewing your wild oats?" He then switched to a tone Peter had heard most often coming from the lips of guidance counselors who thought he could be doing something better with his life. "Man, take it from me, significant others do not buy that excuse."

"Did Deadpool do something to you? Poison you or something? Bribery? Blackmail? 'Cause I could kill him for you." Natasha asked, but Peter didn't think she would buy any of those excuses for a second. She knew there was something more going on. And in fact, off to the side and behind Natasha, Clint was still silent and smirking, with a gleam in his eye that said, ' _I know exactly what is going on, I just figured it out, but I'm going to let everyone else stew a little longer_.' And if Clint knew what was going on (though Peter wasn't exactly sure he himself completely knew what was going on), surely Natasha couldn't be very far behind. And what _did_ Clint think he knew, and how?

Peter thought he had been _winning_.

Peter grumbled a little, but if he was going to do this introduction correctly, than he was going to do it right. He could only thank whatever higher being that might exist, or another universe's Wade, or something, that they hadn't yet gotten to the stage where the removal of clothes was needed.

Peter sat up further in bed, rolled his eyes, and gestured between Wade and the Avengers. "Guys? I'd like you to meet my fiancé, Wade Wilson. Wade, these are my coworkers-slash-friends, the Avengers. Now that you've all met formally, can you _please_ stop cockblocking me from my own boyfriend?"

Steve had gotten caught up on the word "cockblock" for a moment, but then it looked like he finally got the gist of it by the way he gaped horribly between Wade and Peter. Tony was squinting, like he had possibly miss-heard something and was trying to figure out what had _actually_ been said. Bruce was hunched over, Natasha scowled, and Clint just looked pleased with himself.

Thor was the first to speak. He strode over to Peter and shook Peter's hand, and then Wade's, as he boomed "I am pleased to hear of your upcoming nuptials. I give my blessing to this joining of hands and hope that the two of you may forever stay in as high spirits as you are at this point in your life and relationship."

Peter blinked. "Well that was unexpected."

Wade shook his head, and his smile was blinding. His scars pulled up and puckered around his grin, and Peter could hear a small laugh in his voice when he said, "No it wasn't! Thor is my brother, he'll support my decisions. It's a good thing he approves of you, Peter, because I hear big brothers can really hurt beaus that mess with their younger brothers."

Peter scoffed.

"It's not my fault that your parents don't approve," Wade continued, waving between Tony and Bruce.

"Like your 'parents' are super excited to find that I've been boinking their son for longer than either of them have known us?" Peter asked, incredulously.

Clint still hadn't said anything, and looked like he was content to just watch the show, but Natasha had her eyes squeezed shut, and muttered what sounded like, "What is going on? I swear to god, you all get weirder every day. I need more girl friends. Where the fuck is Pepper? She could deal with this way better than I could. Or Maria. Where the fuck is Maria? Maria works with Fury, she knows fucked up. Why couldn't she deal with this?"

Clint patted Natasha's shoulder comfortingly, and Peter had to hold back a grimace. He hadn't meant to break Natasha. In fact, he hadn't known Natasha could be broken.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and asked, "How long as this been going on?"

"Me and Wade you mean? Well, we met maybe five years ago?" Peter looked at Wade for confirmation, but Wade only shrugged. He was always late anyway. "Anyway, we've been dating for four years. Got engaged a few weeks back. You guys know when."

Tony gulped, and a "Fuck me" was dragged from him, almost against his will. Then he blinked and turned to Natasha and Clint, his suit making whirring noises as he moved. "Aren't you super spies supposed to know everything? How did you miss that Deadpool was dating anyone, let alone Peter? How did you miss that _Peter_ was dating Deadpool?" He gestured between the boyfriends almost hysterically.

"Yeah _Mom_ ," Wade snapped, "how could you miss that your _own son_ had a boyfriend. I'm disappointed."

Natasha groaned into her hands and stamped her feet almost childishly. Then she seemed to draw herself upright again. "I honestly cannot tell you. What I _can_ tell you is that I'm going to need so much vodka when this is over."

Clint pushed himself off of the wall, smirk still firmly in place, and practically purred as he said, "I knew."

There was almost complete silence, and Peter sent out a little, internal mourning wail that he had been _wrong_! He hadn't been winning at all. He'd been _loooosing_! _LOOOSSING_!

"How?" Natasha gasped out, gaping at Clint, at the same time that Steve said, "And you didn't tell us?"

Clint shrugged. "They seemed much too familiar with each other. And Peter actually _likes_ Deadpool." Then he turned to Steve. "It was none of our business."

Thor, who still looked much too genuinely happy, said, "When is the day of matrimony?"

Peter scratched the back of his head. "We haven't actually decided yet. Any ideas, Wade?"

"This is still really weird," Tony muttered, and Natasha gave him a commiserating look.

Wade sighed out through his teeth as he settled back into the bed. "Petey-pie, I am down for anything any time at all. I've even already got the dress picked out. It's lavender, I hope you're ok with that. I figured white wouldn't be good, because you know, purity and all that? I've killed literally hundreds of people, Peter. Literally hundreds."

"Lavender is fine!" Peter exclaimed, trying to stop Wade from saying anything that would make the other people in the room more inclined to dislike him.

"I need to sit down," Natasha said weakly, and Bruce held out an arm to steady her as she walked to the door, though she let him go as she exited, walking away alone.

Tony rubbed a hand over his eyes, and Peter winced a little, because he was actually rubbing a metal gauntlet over his very sensitive optical organs, but he didn't seem to even notice. "I'd say that this better not affect either of your work, but considering that it has been months, and none of us even em _knew_ /em, I'm going to say that you both know how to keep it professional." Wade wiggled his eyebrows and then thrust his hips in the general direction of Peter's everywhere. Tony sighed. "Just, please, I've only got so much sanity left." He hesitated for a moment before turning on his heel and rushing out. "I need a cold drink. Natasha! NAT! Wait up!"

Thor was almost at the door as well before he turned to say "You must let me know when the celebration will occur. The festivities following the nuptials of such comrades of mine must be extravagant and hearty!" He gave a quick look at the other Avengers still in the room and said, "Come, friends. Let us leave these who are to be bound together to celebrate through conjugal merriment." And then he was out the door too.

Wade swooned dramatically and fell onto Peter who shoved him off the bed. "Thor is my favorite brother." Wade pushed himself off the floor and flopped back down onto the bed.

"Thor is your only brother," Peter retorted, then paused and amended is statement, "I mean, Thor isn't _even_ your brother."

Steve straightened his back and put on his most Captain America face. "If you hurt him Deadpool, I'll…" He trailed off at the sight of Deadpool nodding his head vigorously.

"Please?" Wade asked, and the way his voice cracked a little showed how genuine his plea was. "I won't mean to, because I love him, but if I ever—"

Peter clamped a hand over Wade's mouth and curled his other arm around his boyfriend's waist. "You will never hurt me," Peter said softly, and he tried to show Wade how much he believed in him just by the look in his eyes, but he wasn't sure how much was getting across. Wade's eyes were wide, and Peter had to fight the urge to kiss him, because this was important. Wade needed to know how much Peter trusted him. And Peter did, Peter trusted Wade with everything, with his life and his secrets, and even with Aunt May. Wade was everything to Peter.

Peter didn't even realize that they were staring into each other's eyes still until he heard Steve sigh. Peter jolted and they both turned to see Steve pinching the bridge of his nose.

He opened his mouth to tell Steve that pinching the bridge of his nose was such a tell, and that he'd be awful at poker because he couldn't have worked a poker face if he tried, but before he could say any of that, Steve looked to the ceiling in what looked like a silent prayer, gave the couple a weak little smile and trudged out of the room.

"Awwww," Wade squealed adorably, "Little Captain Stars and Stripes is growing up! I'm so proud of him. Soon he'll be going on dates and raising a family, and teaching little munchkins to slay Nazis. I'm so excited!"

"I guess I'm next," Bruce said quietly as he stepped to the foot of the bed. Peter looked at him expectantly, absently batting away Wade's hands as they tried to unbutton his shirt. Bruce looked uncomfortable, which made Peter want to smile more. "I suppose congratulations are in order," he paused, and then let out a long sigh, "and I'm sorry, for me and everyone, for trying to, you know." He waved his hand at Wade, and Wade waved back, a giant grin on his face.

"No biggie," Peter insisted.

Bruce gave a soft smile and a small wave, and he too walked from the room, leaving just the couple and Clint.

Who was still smirking.

Peter gave Clint an assessing gaze, but Clint didn't say anything. He walked calmly to the door, stepped past the threshold, and said, calm as could be, "I won!" before slamming the door shut.

"Damn!" Peter exclaimed, and had to stop himself from jumping from the bed and chasing the archer down the hall. "I wanted to win."

"You did win," Wade purred seductively (for Wade, at least, which for a normal person was probably on the other side of the creepy line, but whatever). He walked his finger up Peter's chest, and when he got to Peter's shoulder, took the initiative to push him back into the mattress.

"Yeah?" Peter asked, mouth curving upward. "And what did I win, exactly?"

"This hunk of sexy," Wade said, beaming, before he attached his mouth once more to Peter's neck and reached one of his hands down Peter's pants to grope sloppily at his dick.

Peter huffed out a chuckle and reached out to grab a pillow which he then smacked against Wade's head.

"But baaabe!" Wade whined, detaching his mouth from Peter's neck. Immediately the splotch on Peter's neck that had been reveling in the wet heat of Wade's mouth chilled in the air, but Peter paid it no mind. He just smiled.


	14. New Fic!

Hey guys! It's been a while. I wrote a sequel to this fic. I have no idea other than doing this to let you know it exists :D

The link is:

s/12354408/1/Petey-and-Wade-are-an-item-so-why-is-Spidey-being-a-Homewrecker

I also have an Ao3 account that has way more of my fics. I upload over there first, so here's a link to that if you want more of my stuff quicker:

/users/isaDanCurtisproduction/pseuds/isaDanCurtisproduction


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